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

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

01- LADY  SEJON  ASLEEP  (91) b

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

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

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

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

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

02-  ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (74)

 ~

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

03- QARZTEN CAMUND (8)jD jp

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

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

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

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

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

 

                                                                              ~

 

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

04- SEER KEKOS  -23JP

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

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

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

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

05- KEKOS

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

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

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

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

                                                                                        

                                                                                    ~

(END OF SECTION 3) 

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL – SECTION 6 

Suddenly, Dwengzur struck an idea, and his menacing, calculating eyes yet again turned to burrow decisively into Fradel Rurik Korvald’s.

Fear- yes, first he will inject true fear into this upstart scholar. For fear, he believed, was the most potent ingredient to which all humans unequivocally responded. This, he had confirmed repeatedly, in all his past, aberrant dealings with the humans. Victory was so within his grasp now! He exhaled deeply, confident of his future triumph.

01- DWENGZU

"Enough! I have been civil with you long enough." He suddenly burst, slamming his palm down onto the table. "No more prevarication; I have no more time to waste with the likes of you. I would not care if you were the portended future Emperor of a New Dynasty, one that would reinstate this flea-bitten nation Wenjenkun to magnificence; you have tried my patience to the brink!" 

Blinded by his indignant fury, he dismissed Fradel Rurik Korvald’s slight, involuntary wince. "You humans," Dwengzur, his face beet red with rage, spat out the words as if they were a mouthful of venom, "you're all alike: irrational, crude and intolerable. This is what I think of all of you!" Pointing at the nearest dignitary he invoked a short incantation in an incomprehensible murmur. The immobile man was just then released from his trance and, before he could utter a single word, even a cry of astonishment, he began diminishing in size until he was no more than the size of an ant.

In horror, Nevetsecnuac watched Dwengzur pick up the wriggling, tiny figure by a single leg between his thumb and index finger.

Nevetsecnuac relented, for having pushed Dwengzur this far. "Why take this out on him?" His angry shout, however, was ignored by Dwengzur, as he with a cruel smile on his lips, crushed the unfortunate dignitary to a pulp.

"There, one less vermin. He is no more." he said this with disdain, as he wiped his fingers clean, on the tablecloth.

The Undersecretary to Egil Viggoaries shared a similar fate soon afterwards. Next, the Teylon ambassador was turned into a ripe date which disappeared into Dwengzur's mouth in a flourish.

His anger still not satiated (abated), the Immortal turned his attention to the acrobats, invoking another incantation which instantly turned them into piles of steaming cow excrement. He scoffed, "An apt criticism of their dreadful performance, I say."

Stunned and outraged Nevetsecnuac was, he was now even more determined to deny Dwengzur the least satisfaction, "Are you through with your petty, childish tantrums?"

"Petty…  Childish did you say?"  With a deafening roar Dwengzur turned towards Fradel Rurik Korvald to chastise him proper, only to, quite unexpectedly, throw his head back and burst into a raucous roar of laughter which reverberated through the entire hall.

"You have such audacity (sheer guts), human, I'll give you that much credit. Of course, it will do you no good."  Rising, he faced Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) squarely and began to invoke an even more terrible spell.

02- IMMORTAL DWENGZU CASTING A SPELL 2

"Is this all you can do; these cheap parlor tricks?" Fradel (Nevetsecnuac's) deliberate provocation cut Dwengzur's concentration, breaking the spell.

"You need a good lesson in manners, human! I am through pussyfooting around with you!" Dwengzur bellowed, gnashing his teeth and began to recite yet another, different spell. A flick of his finger forced Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) to his knees.

Fradel tried to rise, but his knees felt as if they were bolted to the floor. His hands defied his will, weighed down as if by lead weights, they fell to the floor forcing him into a kowtow position. Again, and again his head was pressed down, his forehead touching the floor-rug in a gesture of abject humility.  Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) gritted his teeth. Frozen by the spell, his mouth and tongue refused to form the angry words of rebuke (scolding, reproof) he wanted to hurl at Dwengzur.

At first this display of humiliation delighted and amused Dwengzur but he soon grew tired of it.  He snapped his fingers once more and this time Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) was, gripped by a violent force which whisked him completely off the ground and hurled him across the hall to, have his back be, sadistically slammed against the far wall. It was only his martial training and the fact that, the wall was, cushioned by a thick tapestry that spared Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) from having his ribs crushed (and perhaps his spinal cord entirely (crushed) shattered /flattened) by the impact.

As it was, he still suffered a slight concussion and, few badly bruised ribs and limbs. Pinned and unnaturally propped up against the far wall seven feet above the floor, Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) struggled once more with all his might but failed to get free; nevertheless unyielding, he considered his options and strained his eyes to at least, see clearly.

Obviously enjoying Fradel Rurik Korvald’s fruitless struggle, Dwengzur flicked his fingers once more. Out of nowhere, two hundred fiery daggers suddenly manifested themselves, suspended in mid-air between them.

"Do your worst!" Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) shouted defiantly as soon as his tongue had been released. "Let’s see what a great marksman you are!"

With a smile on his lips, Dwengzur not deigning (condescending) to answer, simply motioned for the attack. In an instant the fiery blades shot across the room at blinding speed only to halt, a hairsbreadth away from the thin layer of skin protecting Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) vital organs. Though they did not touch Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) at all the scorching heat of the fiery blades still seared his flesh and blinded his eyes. At a single breath from Dwengzur, the burning blades turned frosty blue, and the heat was replaced by numbing cold.

That same instant Nevetsecnuac's sight being restored to him, Nevetsecnuac saw that behind the blades, (just inches away from Nevetsecnuac’s face,) Dwengzur having had floated over, was presently, hovering in mid-air and leering at him with a cruel smile on his lips.

"Have you had enough, or would you like some more demonstration of my powers?" Dwengzur sardonically asked.

"Oh, but I'm having so much fun; why would I ever wish for this to end?" Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) used sarcasm to hide his mounting resentment.

“My aim is to please.” Dwengzur responded mockingly, disappointed, and yet amazed at Fradel’s resilience and his lack of fear, this being quite evident in the eyes that so defiantly met his own. Dwengzur snapped his two fingers and instantly all the knives vanished into thin air; subsequently, Dwengzur’s form begun to grow and grow. He then transformed into the most hideous, hellishly abhorrent creature that Nevetsecnuac had ever seen.

03- DWENGZU TAKING ON A HORRIBLE FORM

But then the form changed and got even worse. At the top of the creature’s forehead floated four blazing red, reptilian pupils and behind them, Nevetsecnuac observed, two ugly, razor-sharp spiraling horns fastened to Dwengzur’s oblong skull. His gaping red mouth, meanwhile, dripping with green, putrid saliva as if in anticipation of a feast, hovered just inches from Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) face. Suddenly, with the back of his paw the vile creature swiped at Nevetsecnuac's head, nearly rendering him senseless.

The creatures’ long claws next dug in and tore away Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) garments to expose naked flesh; at which point with a groan of pleasure the beast that Dwengzur had become, sunk his elongated fangs deep into the abdomen to tear out a raw chunk of flesh.  As the ogre Dwengzur chewed at this delectable piece, his eyes focused on another part, anticipating the flavor in his rank maw. Swallowing the last bit, Dwengzur was about to indulge in more when Nevetsecnuac, rising above the excruciating pain, invited the beast to sample a portion from the higher segment of his torso instead, and to feast on an unequivocally more delicious, living, pulsating heart.

Dwengzur's quadruple eyes blinked simultaneously; he looked down at Fradel and then up at the ceiling, as he considered this. Finally, he shook his head and groaned, as he (grasped) comprehended the ominous warning which had emanated abruptly, from deep within.

“No!” The siren had said, “You need this prey alive for the longest time possible, as his augmented anguish is the very nourishment your essence craves, far more than the scrumptious vital organs and tender human flesh.”

The beast reluctantly acquiesced, that is what is missing here; yes, the prey must not expire too soon; meanwhile, the portions tastes even better when it is seasoned with the juices of fear!

Its quadruple eyes of the beast now lowered, it targeted Fradel’s left thigh; sinking its fangs in deep, it tore away substantial chunk comprising both muscle and bone, then commenced to leisurely crunching it.

Fradel (Nevetsecnuac)had intrepidly gritted his teeth and bore this excruciating pain also, without a single groan or a whimper escaping his lips. Suddenly, he was reminded of the hallucinatory experience in the forest and, with an iron will, denied the existence of this current reality (actuality).

The beast in the meantime having finished his mouthful had licked his chops and now bit into Fradel’s right thigh. Yet, oddly enough, his fangs could not, would not penetrate the skin of his prey, let alone tear away any tender flesh. Refusing to give way, Dwengzur attacked repeatedly, only to be stymied time and, again. Then he noticed even the parts he had mauled prior, now gradually growing back and, in due process being returned to normal.  Again, and again his fangs targeted different segments of Fradel’s body, only to be denied least satisfaction at every turn. It was no use. Howling angrily, creature Dwengzur stepped back and, with his great, beastly head, nodded.

Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) resolve had broken the spell.

 

  

(END OF SECTION 6)

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC  - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 15

 Zhadol, after concluding his business wistfully looked up at the blinking star-studded sky and sighed. "It’s so peaceful here in the bosom of nature, I enjoy it simply, the gentle breeze caressing my cheeks and the rustling of the leaves."  Reaching upwards, his palm brushed against the swaying branches and the whispering leaves.  Just then a sudden, cold, unexplained shudder, however, ran through him and, stepping back decisively, his keen eyes searched for the upper echelons of thick foliage.  He had sensed a presence there among the branches, but Nevetsecnuac's well camouflaged form eluded him. 

01- WELL CAMOUFLAGED NEVETSECNUAC

After a moment Zhadol laughed at his own stupidity, “Who would dare spy on us?”  

Of course, he was thinking only of the other guards.

"Bah, a bustling city, filled with human intrigues is more to my liking." Yennic, meanwhile, oblivious to his thought, had disdainfully countered.  "You're too much of a poet to be in this line of business; it beats me how you've survived thus far."

"Cynicism does not become you."   Zhadol's sharp retort cut Yennic short.  He was about to walk away when he abruptly turned to look back at the tree.

 "It’s a pity that neither of those two scholars we'd offed (killed)earlier, wasn't him; but then, such is the quirks(flukes) of fate.” He simply shrugged.  “Unfortunately, they had born such an uncanny resemblance to the description.”

"Eh, that was their misfortune, an insignificant insect or two crushed, what difference does it make anyhow?  I'd rather be deemed an efficient (thorough), albeit brutal trooper (guardsman), than risk letting that sly academic slip through our snare (noose, trap)." Yennic responded (coldly), contemptuously.

"Well, you're not in charge so, irrespective of how you feel about scholars, in future we will take extra precautions and use discretionary judgment before we claim another innocent life.  Order the guards to show more restraint next time, they are not to engage until Fradel Rurik Korvald's identity has been verified."

"And what if that cursed Scholar slips through our hands because of your magnanimity?" Yennic asked wryly.

"There you go, imagining things.”

“A moment ago, you weren't even certain that he'd come this way at all.  Now you're determined to butcher all academics (erudite individuals) who use this pass on the off chance he may slip through.  What are you fretting about, anyhow?  As the Commanding Officer, you know full well that the responsibility for the outcome (success or failure) of our mission lies solely with me and me alone.  In the unlikely event of a flop, you will still be spared the maximum penalty."  Zhadol ejected sternly then turned his back to the trees and strode back to the cave.

02-EGIL VIGGORIES 1- JP

"You needn't be so strident.  My concern was more for your sake than mine.  Everyone knows how intolerant his Excellency Egil Viggories is of least failure; it doesn’t take much to ……” Yennic held back what he was about to say and instead, bit the corner of his lip then, wishing to change the subject, shook his head. “Still, how your moods alternate on a whim!  They're as changeable as the wind." Yennic grumbled sourly, shaking his head.  "It never hurts to consider all the avenues, you know.  All right, even though I think you're making a big mistake, I'll pass your order to the men."  His grunts of compliance trailed Zhadol into the distance.

“Yes, he may have seemingly erred in his directive (command), but by ordering his guards not to be too hasty in attack, he has saved their lives and spared me the pointless bloody battle.” Nevetsecnuac watching the two receding figures, heaved a thankful sigh (moan, exhalation). Then, as soon as it was safe for him to do so, he swiftly descended from the tree top and headed back in the opposite direction from the two officers, taking care to avoid any other probable traps.  Blending in perfectly with nature and moving like a swift shadow, he traversed over the sometimes-dangerous terrain to soon reach the spot where he had tethered the mare.

In the nick of time too, it seemed!

Without a moment's hesitation unarmed as he was, armed with a sturdy, weighty pole (hefty stick), he rushed to the assistance of the poor, exhausted horse, virtually snatching him from the jaws of death.  The ensuing struggle between Nevetsecnuac and the disgruntled, ferocious beast that refused to give up its prey lasted but briefly.  It was Nevetsecnuac's remarkable courage, ingenuity, unyielding strength and agility, combined with his relentless defense of the mount, unyielding strength and agility that had won him the advantage in the end. The predator had eventually forsaken his aim, retreated(withdrew) back into the dark foliage and, after issuing one last threat in the form of a fierce growl (retreated) withdrew to disappear instantly amidst the dense, pitch-dark foliage.

03- PREDITOR BENT ON EATING THE HORSE

 The dangerous predicament alleviated, and the mare's fears finally allayed, while Nevetsecnuac was tending, washing off the blood and applying medicinal plant poultices to the horse’s few cuts and abrasions (bitemarks), it was then that the plausible idea suddenly struck (dawned on) him.  After a moment's consideration and stroking his chin, Nevetsecnuac exulted, “Why not?  It should work.  It certainly was a viable cover.”

Forthwith, Nevetsecnuac gathered (obtained) the readily available material from the (nature) woods and then fashioned himself a remarkable bow and enough arrows. The remainder of the night until subsequent day’s mid-morning, Nevetsecnuac additionally utilizing the hastily constructed, though humanely effective animal-traps, had vigorously hunted all types of wild game (that thrived in the woodland regions).  When he had accumulated sufficient sum, he strapped and secured the amassed pelts (furs) and carcasses for his apt disguise onto, back of the saddle, concealing well, the luggage.  Next, his bow and quiver filled with (freshly made) arrows slung over his back, Nevetsecnuac in one fluid motion gracefully swung into the saddle and, looping the reins quickly over his hands, galloped with sure determination at top speed towards Cyprecox Pass.

He arrived at the ambush spot just as the slanted, golden rays of the mid-afternoon sun cast long, hazy shadows on the earth.  However, instead of maintaining his gallop as one might expect, he slowed the mare down to a canter.

The ruse had worked perfectly, dispelling all suspicion thus far.

Predictably, Nevetsecnuac had noted a fleeting flash of light (gleam) reflected off the metal armor of the sentry and felt the two suspicious pairs of eyes avidly (studying him) spying on him from above.  Soon the number had multiplied, yet no officers or sentinels emerged from hiding to accost him or in any way intercept his path.  Under this intense scrutiny, Nevetsecnuac unflinchingly rode on.

04- NEVETSECNUAC THE HUNTER 2-JP

Mid-way, he imagined the kind of exchange Zhadol and Yennic most certainly would be having at that very moment and provocatively (boldly) raising his head looked up directly at the spot they would be hiding and then, smiled teasingly.

Remarkably, it was at this moment that the horse, already spooked by the hidden guards, began to whinny, and bolt, placing Nevetsecnuac in a most compromising situation.  Yet the expected onslaught did not happen.

“Has my disguise fooled them so completely…Even that skeptic, Yennic?  This has been far too easy.”  If he had known the truth, that it was his formidable countenance as he rode high in the saddle that provided the real deterrent to rash action on the guard's part, Nevetsecnuac would have smiled more.

A chilling shudder had passed through all the ambushers and each, inwardly, had professed that this mighty hunter was not one to be trifled with, and could only be engaged only at consequential peril.  Their curious eyes nevertheless watched how Nevetsecnuac brought the beast quickly under control again then steered it towards the narrowest, most dangerous part of the pass. 

Strategically, this would be the most opportune time and place for them to strike, to intercept him even if only for a sport.

The air was so still, the atmosphere so laden with tension that only the solitary tread of the wary horse resounded in vibrations off the jutting cliffs that bounded the road on both sides.

At the midpoint of the pass however, the anticipated, taunting arrow boldly pierced the air, aimed straight at Nevetsecnuac's heart.

05-NEVETSECNUAC THE HUNTER 12- JP

Keeping his mount in check, Nevetsecnuac, unperturbed, twisted sideways, reached out his left hand and (intercepted) plucked the arrow out of midflight.  Faster than the eye could follow, he retrieved his bow, notched the arrow and, at the precise moment, let the missile fly. 

Dead on center, it collided with the second arrow just as it had left Yennic's hiding spot.  Both arrows locked together and fell harmlessly to the ground.

The laughter died quickly in Yennic's throat.  He turned to Zhadol who shook his head in astonishment and commented, "Never have I seen such marksmanship and, never before have I ever witnessed such remarkable prowess."

The other guards exchanged wide-eyed looks and exclaimed in unison their awe, "Truly, a most magnificent skill… how fantastic!"

06- NEVETSECNUAC THREATENS  JP

Before they had a chance to retaliate, however, Nevetsecnuac glared and boldly shouted out his dare and his warning then, taking an arrow from his own quiver, he notched it, raised his bow high as he twisted sideways, and took straight aim at the large rock behind which most of the force was concealed.  He drew back the string until the bow sang with tension then let the arrow fly with such force that it buried itself half the way up its shaft into the solid stone.

Zhadol shifted his position to view the shot.  "That's incredible…such awesome power!"  Yennic, meanwhile, was infuriated at being made the fool and, with curses forming on his lips, had started to stand up and go after the hunter, whatever the cost.  It was his good fortune that the strong arm of Zhadol held him back from an early grave.  "Stay your ground, Lieutenant!  That's an order!"

"But are we going to let him make a mockery of us all?  Are we going to let that arrogant (bully) brute’s affront, his taunt go unanswered?  There's only one of him and…" 

Yennic's grumbles softened moment later as he changed his tune, attempting to cajole Zhadol, "All right, if we are not to challenge him for that then let me at least make his acquaintance.  Don't you think it would be a great boon for our force to recruit such a hunter/warrior, however arrogant?"

"I said stay your ground, Lieutenant!" Zhadol barked.  His lingering, menacing gaze seemed to say, “Don’t you dare contradict my orders again in front of the men or I'll have your hide! “When Yennic, cowering in silence, dropped his eyes, Zhadol explained, "Such men are not interested in any affiliations, Lieutenant, they are loners by choice."  He then reasoned further that, being at the pass on secret orders, they could not expose themselves to a possible scout or spy unless there was the certainty of recruiting or killing him.  Even if this rider was neither and was, in truth, a lone hunter, he could let loose an inadvertent word here or there to the authorities and oblige the contingent to furnish an account of their purpose.  Even at best, it would be a sticky situation for them all.  There had been enough senseless killing already from which, just this once, Zhadol wished a reprieve. He summed it all up by saying, "It is obvious, Yennic, that this man is no docile Scholar and therefore cannot possibly be the object of our target."

"So, we will let him pass, the lucky dog!"  Yennic clenched his teeth and watched in mute hostility; as Nevetsecnuac, without further incident or provocation, rode passed his horse unscathed through the talons of danger.

                                                                                    ~

 

(END OF SECTION 15)

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION - 12

"But what’s with this entire hullabaloo (commotion) over scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald?"  Yennic's question grabbed anew Nevetsecnuac's full attention.

 "Why has he been drawn into this conflict?  I mean, why he specifically, when more brilliant, articulate poets reside close at hand to His Highness?"

01- BRILLIANT SCHOLAR

"I know who you're referring to,” Zhadol grimaced wryly, "but he would hardly do.  It’s not the quality of the Scholar's work that is in question here.  Well, maybe a little bit."   Zhadol shook his head.

"More specifically, Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren’s recommendation of Fradel Rurik Korvald was politically motivated.  He aimed, of course, to further ingratiate himself in Her Ladyship's good graces while she still enjoys the good graces of His Highness.  Since Lady Sejon has acquired a certain fondness for this poet's earlier works and was intrigued by his elusiveness, his required presence in the upcoming event is merely an exercise in power."

"Is it as trivial as that?" Yennic smirked.

"Trivial it may be, but Fradel Rurik Korvald is another strategically placed pawn on the game board of the two rival factions.  Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren knows, and cultivates, Her Ladyship's particular dislike of Egil Viggoaries and, as already her favored uncle, he aims to…"

"I understand." Yennic interrupted impatiently and completed Zhadol’s line of reasoning. “Lady Sejon, an enchanting beauty (of about twenty-three years old, with clear blue eyes and long wavy, golden hair,) is the Emperor Zakhertan Yozdek’s most recent, favored, chief consort.” Yennic could not resist boasting of his knowledge, so he simply rattled on.

02- LADY SEJON YOZDEK (2)JP

“She is particularly important, since she is also the mother of fourth Prince Prince Magnian, who is by all accounts, a little darling, captivating all courtiers ‘hearts at five years of age. Besides which Lady Sejon also happens to be the P.M Lamont Gudaren’s much beloved, deceased, third sister’s daughter, is she not? The Prime Minister, through her, hopes to effectively slander His Excellency Egil Viggoaries; however, if Fradel Rurik Korvald fails to appear for the summons, it will reflect badly on Lamont Gudaren, and Her Ladyship's tolerance of failure is not unlike that of His Highness."

"Precisely," Zhadol nodded.

"Still, Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren has no doubt-built safeguards against this inevitability." Yennic asserted his fresh argument.  "He wouldn't launch any idea without first having a foolproof backup in place.  Besides, aren't you always counseling me not to take things at face value?  It’s no secret how the Prime Minister's tentacles extend far beyond the Court itself into several provinces where, as I understand, several governors and viceroys are his clients. “

“At least twice Egil Viggoaries's age, he's nevertheless calculating and far-sighted and his political strategies are supremely effective.  He has a hand in most of the conspiracies.  His agents are dispersed widely across the Empire such that there is little that escapes his attention.  But so far, his forces and wide influence have been seemingly kept in check by His Excellency Egil Viggoaries who, rightly so, is shrewder and far more ruthless.  Am I right?"

"Yes, yes.  Why are you telling me what we already know?  What's your point and what do you mean by 'seemingly'?

"My point is that contrary to P. M. Lamont Gudaren’s belief, what if Dwengzur is, in fact, collaborating in one of Egil Viggoaries’s diabolical plots and we've been sent on a false trail, chiefly to get us out of harm's way?  Why should it be inconceivable that, in this instance, even His Excellency may be duped with the diversion of an upcoming assassination attempt on His Highness?"

"A conspiracy… Is that what all this has been leading up to?"  Zhadol shook his head.

"That's highly improbable and, I should say, too premature.  Even if Dwengzur did secretly align with Field Marshall Yonku, Chancellor Tiver and the rest of the Prime Minister's despicable lackeys against Egil Viggoaries, it would be sheer madness for them to try anything.  The forces that have been dispatched, including us, constitute a relatively small contingent of the Elite Divisions.  The main body, as far as I know, is still stationed in the Capital and our absence has not even made a small dent in the scope of things."

03-COMMANDER ZHADOL AND HIS LIEUTENANT YENNIC

Relentlessly, with a calculating gleam in his eye, Yennic inclined towards Zhadol and suggested, "Still, we've been quite out of touch here, Zhadol.  Suppose that, after our departure, the rest were dispersed as well on other pretexts."

"You’re not suggesting… the Imperial Guards?” Zhadol shook his head.  "Not likely.  You know they can't be bribed.  And there's the flaw in your hypothesis.”

“Besides, despite the low profile His Highness prefers to keep, he still maintains absolute rule in all facets of the Government and the Military.  Everything is closely monitored and passes only when it receives His Highness' seal of approval.

“Zakhertan Yozdek’s Secret Police, aside from the Internal Census Bureau, are so potent that no one would dare make the slightest move.  They would cut down the instant they tried anything treasonous.

"Oh, but what a fantastic imagination you have!" Zhadol laughed heartily, throwing his head back.  "You always manage to entertain me when I'm least expecting it, brightening up my darkest moods.  I confess, for a moment there I almost took you seriously.  You almost duped me into thinking you were in earnest.  Go on; elaborate more on your conspiracy theory if you please."

Yennic was thoroughly annoyed at the Commander's condescension but, with an effort, unclenched his fist and masked his fury.  Grimacing sheepishly, he played along in shamed naiveté, "Yet His Highness allows the two factions that contend for power to grow in strength daily."

"In fact, His Highness encourages it."

"Is that not disruptive to the State?" Yennic asked wide-eyed.

"On the contrary," Zhadol smiled knowingly, "I should think that it strengthens the State."

“Quite right,” Nevetsecnuac acknowledged. “As long as these two are kept feuding with each other, there's no danger of either of them usurping the usurper.  It’s a simple, but effective textbook strategy.  The moment one of them topples the other, the overconfident victor, in his exhausted state, can easily be vanquished (eliminated)”.

"All right, then, maybe it’s not a national conspiracy.  Maybe it’s you and I that are targeted.  Maybe we're the ones who are being set up." Yennic growled  his insistent, despondent retort.

Strangely enough, at that moment a cloud of concern brushed Zhadol’s face.  He knitted his brows and, narrowing his eyes, studied the Lieutenant intensely but, shaking his head to quickly disperse the questions and suspicions that invaded (encroach) his mind, he rebuked Yennic, "You're talking nonsense again.  I don't see why.  Even if it was his intention to rid himself of us, there were ample other avenues, more plausible and less costly alternatives that could have been (employed) utilized."

04- NEVETSECNUAC  UP IN A TREE LISTENING

“His intention…”  Nevetsecnuac was intrigued.  “Was that a slip of the tongue?”

 

"Besides, you're overrating your own importance."  Zhadol turned sharply and, despite himself, sneered maliciously at Yennic.  Obviously, something of what was said had touched a raw nerve in him.

Yennic wondered, “Could some of the rumors that have been circulating have some validity after all?  If so, there's too much at stake here.  I mustn't act rashly.”

Yennic knew enough when to back off.  Rising in silence, Yennic began pacing back and forth, irritated.  “It had taken him many long, painstaking months to worm his way into Zhadol’s confidence.  Jeopardizing that now would have far more serious repercussions, yet his impatient nature gnawed at him, egging him on to act now… All right, how about a different angle of approach?”  He stole a sidelong glance at Zhadol, who was lost in thoughtful silence with his blank gaze, all the same, tracking Yennic.

Halting his steps abruptly, Yennic turned and said, "Well, if that cursed scholar is going to show up, I wish he'd hurry up with it.  The men have been quite restless for some time for some serious action.  They may prove unruly if we wait much longer."

"Now, Yennic, are you really speaking for the men, or for yourself?"  Zhadol, quite disarmed, smiled and stroked his beard.

Yennic looked away in agitation, not returning the smile.  Hand grasping the hilt of his sword, he turned his fiery gaze back on Zhadol and stamped his foot like an impatient child. 

“Yes, I admit it; I’ve had just about enough with all this waiting.  My sword is thirsting for his blood.  I can hardly wait to present his learned head to His Excellency."

"Why, I didn't realize that you were so ambitious, Yennic."  Zhadol frowned with mock displeasure to lighten the other's mood.  "Are you, by any chance, now planning to go over my head and curry favors from His Excellency for yourself."

"Oh, I wouldn't be so presumptuous."  Yennic rushed over to sit beside the Commander and shook his head.  "Nor would I have the nerve.  I know fully well my own shortcomings, and I've seen something of His Excellency's whims and tempers.  I wouldn't have a prayer for a chance."  Looking into Zhadol’s eyes, he added in a sincere, earnest tone, "I'm far safer where I am; under your good guidance and your protective wing."

Pleased with this unexpected praise, Zhadol smiled and nodded.  Fixing his gaze on the other, he counseled him in an affectionate, concerned voice, "Don't take this to heart, but you really are too impetuous for your own good, Yennic.  You know that don't you?"  He waited for the other's nod of assent before he resumed, "Granted, I was once just like you.  I, too, acted rashly, bursting with youthful vigor but now, things are far more complicated, far too dangerous.  You say that you'll never go over my head to curry favor with Egil Viggoaries."  He shook his head and raised his hand, "No, wait!  I suspect that you firmly believe that now but one day, when you've outgrown me, that will be your intention.  I'd like to caution you beforehand not to act too rashly.”

“Don’t make the slightest move until you're ascertained your-self tenfold of the outcome.  Egil Viggoaries 's inner circle, I'm referring to the Black Molochs, play for serious stakes and, if you're not strong enough, they'll swallow you up, crush your dignity and strip off your self- respect beyond any repair.  I've had my own share of regret and pain in the past as I came up the ladder.  I thought that I was ready, too, when I entered the playing field," Zhadol could not hide the bitterness from his voice, "but they exposed weaknesses in me I never knew I had.  I'm fond of you, so I want you to take the counsel of one who's already been there.  If nothing else, I'd like to spare you from my own (humiliation and) heartaches.”

“For now, however, you would do well to exercise caution, cultivate perseverance and curb your ambition a little.  You're bold, too bold for your own good if you ask me."

"Old age has made you weary." Yennic teased to lighten the gravity of Zhadol's mood but, seeing the frown on the other's face, quickly retracted his gibe.

 In a sincere tone, he added, "I do appreciate your concern, Zhadol, and I promise I'll mend my ways… all right?”

Zhadol was appeased and, the next moment, they had both put their heads together in an animated, inaudible conversation.  Yennic gesticulated wildly and went on, his lips twisting into a provocative smile one minute, a savage sneer the next.

Nevetsecnuac was about to take his leave when Yennic asked with clear concern, "The trouble between you and Egil Viggoaries, tell me, has it passed?  Are you back- in- his-good- graces now that you've been invited to that?"

"Ah, that's it; it’s finally out!"  Zhadol smiled coldly, interrupting the Lieutenant.

 "So that's what's really been praying on your mind all night?  I'd guessed as much because of what happened, but you need not have taken such a roundabout way to it.  Why didn't you just come right out and ask me at the start?"

Seeing the uselessness of denial, Yennic conceded with lowered head, "I wasn't certain how you would react."

This may prove interesting.  Nevetsecnuac nodded and decided to stay a while longer.

"All right but first tell me the exact details of what you have heard concerning this,” Zhadol prompted (pressed) Yennic.

"Nothing too specific," Yennic grunted.  "Only that you defied His Excellency's wish on some matter or other and that he was seriously cross with you."

"And that was enough to give you cause for alarm?"

"Certainly," Yennic nodded.

"It’s very good of you to be so concerned about my welfare," Zhadol smiled broadly, "but I assure you, things have been pacified.  You needn’t worry about me any longer.  I haven't survived this long for nothing, you know.  However, don't think for a moment that I haven't paid dearly for it."  Zhadol gritted his teeth and absentmindedly rubbed the back of his neck.  "You know how Egil Viggoaries carries a grudge.  I suspect that, one day, it will all come back to haunt me all over again and compound my miseries.  My mistakes are tolerated somewhat at present because I have not yet outlived my usefulness and because I once meant something more to him."

"As well, being one of the twelve of the Inner Circle of the Black Molochs helps." Yennic interjected.

"I have well-earned that distinction!"  Zhadol studied the Lieutenant from the corner of his eye.

"No one would dispute that.  At least you were once his favorite." Yennic mumbled, envying Zhadol’s position.  "Precious few can own up to that prestigious, most coveted distinction.  Surely you can't discount the benefits you've reaped, the favors you've received from the ones who have rushed to ingratiate themselves with you?"

"Do you think that this was a privilege that made up for all the warring, truculent existence and degradation?"   Zhadol shook his head, smiling bitterly, "You don't know what it is that you’re wishing for.  You can't imagine what I had to go through and do; to what ends I was driven to satisfy his perverse appetite for suffering."   Zhadol dropped his head, as if in shame.   "Some of the things he made me do!"  His features crunched up as he meekly ejected, "Yennic, even now, I can't bear to even think of them."

“Yet you call me ambitious!” Yennic scoffed under his outward visage of sympathy.

"After all that, after all I'd done for him, how readily he turned on me that night!"   Zhadol looked up, indignation firing his eyes.  "It is true what they secretly whisper about him, that he is devoid of any decent human feelings, least of all compassion.  And his cruelty, his cruelty knows no bounds.  He feasts on bloodshed and delights in humiliating others.  Hah, he's a carbon copy of one whose name I dare not mention aloud!  Many a time I was the unfortunate target of his rage, those sudden and violent outbursts but..."   Zhadol abruptly fell silent.  "We've got company," he whispered as he jutted (stuck out) his chin pointing in the direction of a pair of watchful eyes.

Yennic stirred slightly, clutching the hilt of his sword, and was about to suddenly spring into action when the gleaming eyes receded in a flash and darted back into the bush.  The next instant two pairs of scuttling feet were heard pattering into the distance.

 Zhadol grasped Yennic's arm, holding him back.  "Let it be.  Foxes are strange, unpredictable creatures."  He nodded thoughtfully as the Lieutenant complied, settled back.  "You want to know something, Yennic?  Egil Viggoaries has a strange passion for them; it may even be called an obsession.  It may have something to do with an incident that happened when he was barely seven.  He had accompanied Zakhertan Yozdek on a hunting expedition to Kaporelon.  Seeing this as a mark of privilege and high favor, Egil Viggoaries was determined to prove his own worth."

"Wasn't he then made to…,” Yennic looked down, bit the corner of his lip then quickly added, “to punish the spirited animal that had given them quite a chase?"

"So, I've told you about it already,” Zhadol grimaced.  "According to Egil Viggoaries, he did it unflinchingly and so earned the regard of His Highness and the respect of the other courtiers.  However, one of these courtiers, long since dead, once told me the young Egil Viggoaries had lingered over the task, his eyes like glass, his heart turned to stone, as he then relentlessly pushed to complete it, just to gain Zakhertan Yozdek’s approval.  The experience, however, had left an indelible mark on young Egil and had far more serious repercussions than he would ever care to admit.  Perhaps at the time he’d secretly felt an innate kinship with the trapped beast, whose resilience had been likened to one of his prior experiences.  One thing is for certain, all who knew him commented afterwards on how he had returned from that hunting trip with a cast-iron confidence, stone heart, and resilient (hardy) character."

 

(END OF SECTION 12)

                                                                                    ~