Showing posts with label torture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label torture. Show all posts

Monday, 1 September 2025

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO CAPITAL - SECTION 8

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 8

The ghosts stirred, and many took flights into the distance or into the air, as high as they were permitted to go. But before Nevetsecnuac could accost one of the fleeing ghosts the ground split open with a terrifying noise and a horde of horrendous trolls streamed out of the fiery crevice.  Cracking their whips to disperse the unfortunate ghosts who failed to clear the way fast enough, the ugly trolls, cursing and spitting, carved out an open, direct path to Nevetsecnuac.  In their wake there emerged from the chasm, where red hot flames now shot up on high, two most grotesque, most hideous Demon Guards, half human, half beast, with barbed tails between their legs, lolling tongues, jagged, razor-sharp talons, saw-like teeth and blazing, glittering eyes (orbs) set in leathery, blue faces framed by horns and frizzled, raven black hair.

Standing fifteen feet tall, they were truly more fearsome, more gruesome, and more nightmarish than anything Nevetsecnuac had ever seen or imagined.

The terrified ghosts, clustered at a safe distance, sobbed loudly and cringed apprehensively, knowing what awaited him.

Gnashing their rows of teeth, hissing and spitting, the Demon Guards swaggered menacingly towards Nevetsecnuac.  One unlucky young ghost who had failed to clear the way, paralyzed as he was in fear, drew the unwarranted attention of the lead Demon; finding this ready gift irresistible, he halted his advance long enough to reach out with his razor-sharp talons towards the unfortunate spirit.

01- YOUNG GHOST PARALYZED WITH FEAR

Demon’s talons subsequently entered the ghost’s chest cavity and ripped out the prized delicacy, the heart, which he ate in one gulp then licked his chops.  Both demon guards next were about to tear into the remaining flesh to consume the lungs and liver, when Nevetsecnuac, outraged, shouted at them (Demon Guards) in indignation, drawing their attention to him, hoping to spare the poor victim from further torment (anguish).

The other spirits, knowing what they knew, had recoiled in terror, while the braver ones with their hearts palpitating, eventually finding their voices, despite their shuddering, whimpered thoughtful warnings to Nevetsecnuac, but it was too late.

One of the Demons, pinning his fiery gaze on Nevetsecnuac, shot two iridescent red beams from his pupils and paralyzed Nevetsecnuac where he stood; it was implicit (understood) that his turn would come soon enough. Rendered helpless and unable to close his eyelids, meanwhile, Nevetsecnuac witnessed the unfortunate ghost being torn limb from limb then devoured ravenously by the two Demons.  The trolls standing by, looked on hungrily but not daring to intercede and claim even a miniscule share, hoped instead for a (forgotten) scant morsel to be left behind.  However, to their disappointment, the two demons even fought over the entrails, and then settled leisurely to crunch the bones until nothing at all was left of the poor ghost.  Then, belching jarringly (dissonantly), the Demon Guards rancorously advanced upon Nevetsecnuac.

"You're to come with us.  You have a lot to answer for." The leader growled then, with one of his talons (like a hook) piercing the top of Nevetsecnuac's skull, he led the way as he dragged Nevetsecnuac down into the hellish fires.  The agonizing pain Nevetsecnuac suffered as he was hauled away was so intense that he fought to maintain his consciousness (awareness, cognizance).

Down in the depths of the netherworld (Hell), in that surreal topography (landscape) the glowing fires raged everywhere. 

02 -NETHERWORLD

The stony, wabbly path they were on led across a bridge which was flanked on both sides by an abysmal plummet, that intermittently cocooned chambers of horror from which emanated ghastly, heart-rending screams and wails.

 Nevetsecnuac was thankful he could not see the imagined atrocities; nevertheless, their anguished cries grated on his ears as the stench of burning flesh assailed his nose. Subsequently, these unfortunate ghosts, rather what remained of them, were thence (thereafter) ravenously devoured by the rowdy groups of demons seated at long tables. An adjacent chamber revealed a still more ghastly, terrifying sight; there a giant beastly head, its huge mouth filled with row upon row of molars, was being fed human souls by other Demon Guards.  The beast with no body was grinding up the unfortunate souls between his teeth like a millstone.

 Nevetsecnuac flanked by the two Demons, enduring (experiencing) violent vertigo, was dragged across a suspended tall bridge, constructed over a fast-flowing river of blood. Dark crimson and foamy swirling whirlpools periodically revealed giant vipers that were devouring the cart loads of ghosts (ones who’d ended their life prematurely via suicide,) now being steadily dumped into the flow from the banks.  In their frenzy feeding these snakes churned the water so high that the bridge overhead perpetually (swayed) shook unsteadily. 

03- SNAKES FEEDING

The piranha infested bluish ponds came into view next; here the waters boiled as the swarms of flesh-eating fish in their feeding frenzy instantly stripped off all there was of those guilty of gluttony, avarice, spite and malevolence. Unceremoniously dumped into the churning, lighting-streaked waters, where all flesh disappeared right away down to the skeletal bones.

More horrific still was the Hill of Blades beside it, penalty reserved for the worst of humanity, including mass murderers.  Their minced (diced) pieces of flesh were quickly picked clean by the scavenging vultures that hovered noisily overhead.

Eventually Nevetsecnuac and his captors passed through a pair of pronged bronze gates guarded by two fearsome Bull Demons and entered a dark, elongated hall dotted with part-beast, part human, demons, resembling tigers, wolves and hyenas lying or sitting, panting, their tongues lolling, licking their chops.  The high walls, even the ceiling were made entirely of human skulls and bones crawling with flies, maggots, and worms.  The floors beneath Nevetsecnuac’s hauled (lugged, dragged) feet were all paved with crushed bones.

They approached a second set of doors, guarded by fearsome, grotesque giant Demons with halberds.  The bronze framed, purple ingrained cinnabar doors opened with a creaking, grinding sound onto a large vermilion hall, at the head of which was, seated on a dais and leaning against a desk, passing judgment, the most monstrous, most hideous looking Underworld King, Dekiletgan.

On either side of Dekiletgan, the half-human, half-beast fearsome demons holding standards on two-pronged spears were drawn up in tight, impenetrable ranks.  Standing in attendance off to the left side, holding stacks of files, was a tiger-headed Official. Next to him stood the hunchbacked, fox-headed, human-bodied clerk who, before the handling of each case, perused it carefully then passed the appropriate dossier to his superior.

As Nevetsecnuac's turn came the Demon Guards released Nevetsecnuac from the spell of immobility, prodded him forwards and forced him to his knees, after which they bowed and respectfully stepped aside.

The Demon King Dekiletgan, fixing his hard gaze on Nevetsecnuac, ordered the prisoner to approach the bench and state his plea, part of the empty, meaningless formality.

Nevetsecnuac, nevertheless, respectfully  prostrated (bowed-down) low and stated briefly his grievance; after which, he eloquently implored His Honor to grant him a second chance so as to fulfill his destiny and avenge all those that had been wronged, adding quickly that his own fate mattered little to him and, once his task was complete, he'd most willingly, without a qualm, would succumb to extreme tortures of Hell until his penance was paid in full.

Nevetsecnuac's courage and loyalty impressed Dekiletgan.  Favorably disposed to granting him temporary amnesty, the fiendish King turned his attention to Nevetsecnuac's dossier before him and opened it.  However, he had read only a few lines when he exploded in a sudden, great, all-consuming rage.  Smoke emanated from his nostrils; fire flashed from his pupils.  "What blunder is this?" he thundered. Checking his anger summarily however, but glaring at the tiger-headed Official, he summoned with a wave of his hand both the tiger-headed Official and the fox-headed clerk to approach the bench.  After being questioned at length, both were exonerated from all blame.

The Demon King Dekiletgan (pinned, turned) reverted his fiery, blazing eyes next to Nevetsecnuac.

"Because of your stupid blunder," he fumed, "all my records are now botched up!  You are guilty of the most heinous crime and deserve the extreme penalty of this court!  Even after the term of your penance, there will be no appeal, no reprieve for the likes of you."

Then, hastening the procedure, Dekiletgan passed the severest sentence upon poor Nevetsecnuac, at the end of which Nevetsecnuac was condemned to becoming a non-entity for eternity.

 "Take him away!" commanded the Dekiletgan as his final order.

"No, I refuse to abide by this hasty, unfair verdict, this travesty of justice!" Nevetsecnuac protested indignantly.

04-NEVETS ARGUES HIS CASE BEFORE THE UNDERWORLD KING DEKILETGAN

 "You call this a just ruling?  Where is my purported day in court?  I demand I be given a chance to vindicate myself!  What kind of court is this that tramples on truth, integrity, justice, and probity?  I will not deny that of which I stand guilty.  Even then, there were extenuating circumstances and legitimate, valid reasons for my actions.  No, I'm not seeking a total, or even a partial acquittal.  My singular wish is to gain a chance to fulfill my obligation.  No!  I will not be silenced, not until I get what I want!"  Nevetsecnuac stomped his foot defiantly.

"I demand to be heard!  Let go of me, you beasts!"  As Nevetsecnuac struggled and fought hard to free himself from the ever tightening, constricting bonds that had magically appeared on him and, trussed as he was, ducked, bent, and swerved to escape the full impact of the needling, piercing talons, sharp claws and silver rods that mercilessly targeted his head and body from all directions.  "Nooo... “

"Hah?" just then he came to with a start.

"Where am I?  How did I get here?" Nevetsecnuac asked out loud, looking-about him wildly.  To his great relief he found himself to be no longer in Hell but on Earth.  He was amid a thorny bush with clinging runners tightly wound around his legs and waist, restricting his movements.  He was soaked to the skin from the pounding rain. 

05- NEVETS  IN THE RAIN (23)

He looked down and saw his feet totally submerged in a pool of water up to his knees; meanwhile, he could sense many bloodsuckers, having found their way under cloth (his trousers), gorging on his blood.  Disconcerted by this; however, "Zonar?"  Instead, his hand reached up and felt his throat that was still throbbing in excruciating pain right where he had imagined, or dreamt, that Zonar had inflicted that deep gash. His mind still clouded with incomprehensible jargon, he saw wild, strange, bizarre visions flashing intermittently, dancing before his eyes.

"How on earth did I get here?" Once more he raised the question in exasperation as he jogged his memory and tried his best to recollect the very last thing that he did or had happened to him.  Meanwhile, with slight difficulty, he succeeded in weaving his way out from the grasp of the thorny bushes and, by pulling, tearing at the adhesive, sticky tentacles and runners that stubbornly clung to his hair, skin, and clothes, he eventually freed himself.  With bewildered eyes Nevetsecnuac then scanned the surroundings in search of his horse, but he had wandered into a no-man's land and here the dense forest permitted only scant light as thick, lush, tall vegetation choked the ground, obscuring whatever lay in its bosom.

His only chance, he knew, was to get to a higher ground and survey the wider perimeter.

Traversing the ascending, snaking path recently carved, obviously by him, Nevetsecnuac emerged finally out of this nightmarish gorge.

Using a small dagger, he kept concealed (in his boot) for eating purposes, he carefully scraped the bothersome bloodsuckers off his skin.

When the tapering rain just then ceased and strong winds, sweeping the clouds away to the west, created a window in the sky for the sun to peep from, Nevetsecnuac concluded from its position that it was late afternoon, which meant that three-quarters of the day had been, prior, lost to him in a shroud of mystery.  Fortunately, at present, his mind had cleared, and his senses were fully restored to normal.

Seated comfortably on a boulder, he tried to recollect the very last thing he had done, which, in all probability, had contributed to his hallucination. It quickly came to him: “Yes, just before dawn he had dug up some edible roots for sustenance.”

 “Could it be that particular?  No!”  He shook his head in disbelief.  He was certain that he had made no mistake on that account.  He had eaten that root hundreds of times with no consequence.  In the end, however, he had to concede that, perhaps in this part of the country, the same variety had evolved, triggering hence, detrimental effects on humans.

“In that case,” he inwardly noted, “I had best avoid that particular root altogether.” 

This was most disconcerting because, having come this far, he could not now jeopardize his aim.

Reflecting on his vivid hallucination, his combat with Zonar, his wretched, frustrating experience in Hell, Nevetsecnuac nodded with a wry smile, “It seems there is some measure of truth in these mountain folk tales and superstitions, after all.  Fortunately, I’ve survived it unscathed, but what of my mare?  I must seek her out right away; she could not have wandered too far unless she's fallen prey to some predatory beast!”

Fortunately, he'd taken the precaution of keeping the identity papers and summons on him.  Still, without a horse and a scholar's formal attire, Nevetsecnuac knew he could not advance in speed, to meet the deadline, nor could he present himself on foot in the Capital as Fradel Rurik Korvald, without arousing some unwarranted suspicion and dubious curiosity that might jeopardize his enterprise.

As he searched for his horse, there was yet another nagging concern in the back of his mind.  In a perilous duel he had clashed swords and fists with Zonar, with neither of them gaining the advantage or besting the other.  Up until now, he had thought they were equally matched, but did this bizarre hallucination in some way portend a future encounter with, perhaps, graver consequences for him (Nevetsecnuac)?  Was his delirium a premonition, a warning not to engage Zonar?  Yet, what if Zonar was already in Channing (Imperial Capital City of Wenjenjun) to carry out precisely the purpose he had claimed in the illusion?”

 “No,” shaking his head, Nevetsecnuac dispelled that preposterous notion.  Zonar was too honorable for that.

Deciding to reconnoiter more extensively and, to get an aerial/panoramic view, Nevetsecnuac quickly climbed the tallest ancient tree.  As his eyes scanned the distance far and wide, to his elation he suddenly spotted, a lone horse resembling his, which had just moved out from under the broad-leafed canopy to graze beside a creek which snaked through a clearing beyond the next hill.



06- HORSE

 "Excellent!" Nevetsecnuac exclaimed in satisfaction.  Then his eyes sought the path which he had inadvertently strayed from.  Finding it, he traced it to where it met up with the old main road, barely visible from his position.  Having set firmly (etched) the direction and all pertinent obstacles in his memory, Nevetsecnuac climbed back down from the dizzying crown of this ancient tree with the nimble agility of a monkey. After which he hastened as fast as his legs could carry him, traversing the rough terrain, to reach his mount before dusk.  The spooked steed, none the worse for wear, bolted at the first sight of Nevetsecnuac then neighed and trotted warily, but did not run away.

Approaching her cautiously, Nevetsecnuac took the mare by the reins, gently stroking her long mane to erase her fears then, vaulting into the saddle, wheeled around, and galloped along the descending course in the right direction.

 

                                                                                           ~

 

(END OF SECTION 8)

Monday, 7 July 2025

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 28

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 28


Crying had offered no solace to Canute, and when the stark reality of his mother’s demise fully sunk in, all reason and sense had abandoned him. 

01 - CANUTE DESPAIRING

His rant (angry outbursts) and hysterical screams next, had brought the whole household to his mother's door.  Customers and servants clambered over one another as they pounded fiercely on both doors, demanding they be let in at once.

 But Canute, in a state of shock had remained quite inert, oblivious to the mayhem outside.  His body was completely benumbed as if he was pinned, crushed under the oppressive weight of an enormous boulder the size of a mountain.  His limbs (arms), as if severed from the mind's control, hung listlessly on either side of him, pulled down by a burdensome weight.  His face ashen, Canute stared with voided thoughts at his mother through the curtain of tragic, bittersweet tears that still streamed down his cheeks and chin to dampen his shirt.

Finally, one of the doors was brought down with a great crushing sound and both Ron and Tike burst in neck and neck.  A small crowd of curious seekers, too apprehensive to cross a sick woman's threshold, craned their necks to cautiously peer in.  Flushed faces became pale and grim as they exchanged meaningful looks and, inclined their heads together in groups, whispered hushed words among themselves, exchanged information and disclaimers of her rumored illness, while pointing the discrete finger of accusation at Tike and Ron.

Tike had gone straight for Helga and began ranting over the spoilt bedding and the trouble that had been incurred, while Ron Kuri had savagely grabbed hold of Canute by the collar of his shirt (at back of the neck), lifted him up high in air, and burrowed his threatening, venomous glare into Canute. When Canute defiantly stuck his tongue out at him, Ron foaming in the mouth, cursed and reviled Canute then spat at Canute’s face. Growling, he demanded snap (instant, quick) answers to his barrage of unremitting (relentless) questions:

"Why didn't you open the door… wretch?  How the hell did you get out?  Who was it that let you out?  Cat got your tongue; answer me, damn you!”

Canute’s scathing (scornful), defiant glare and snarl on his lips, however, earned him Ron’s seething ire.  “Why aren’t you afraid? I can crush you like a bug. I’ll snuff the very life out of you, you brazen, cursed worm!"

02- RON KURI

Canute’s stubborn nature would never allow him to admit defeat; his perpetual, derisive grin, therefore, further antagonized the already furious Ron, as murder registered in his pupils (eyes): "You dare so brazenly, challenge me?" Ron barked, as he violently shook Canute as if he was a ragdoll; he then slapped Canute real hard, not once but twice, right across the face.

Canute’s cheeks smarted (burnt, stung) really bad, but he desisted shedding any tears; meanwhile, the foul, sweaty stench of an unwashed male had assailed Canute's senses, overpowering the lingering scent of his mother's sweet perfume.  Blood trickled (oozed), from his nostrils and from the corners of his swollen lips, onto his torn shirt in streaks of pale crimson.  Although the physical pain inflicted by Ron Kuri tested Canute’s endurance it was dwarfed in comparison to the anguish he felt deep in his heart and so, not a sound, not even the slightest whimper escaped Canute's lips. 

In truth, Canute was now beyond caring, he did not feel or hear any of the heaped-on abuse; thus, highly incensed Ron was robbed of the perverse satisfaction he sought to gain.  Another fierce strike (hit) just then pummeled the side of Canute's head and sent him flying clear across the room to slam his head hard against the door post; consequently, Canute lost his orientation (balance, senses), all about him turned blurry and began to spin.

"You are no good shit!  What did you do that for?" Tike's voice shrieked.  "What if you've killed him?"

"What about it?  Who cares?  Who would miss the wretch, anyway?" came Ron's cold retort.  "Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say!  Let the bastard die and join his mother in hell.  It’s no skin off of my nose."

"No skin off of your nose?  No skin off your nose?" Tike ground her teeth.  "You're going to land me in serious trouble, that's what!  How can I sell him to the Wang family in the condition he's in now?  Didn't I tell you to curb your temper?  You've cost me more money than the skin of your nose is worth!"

As Canute's throat filled up with blood the voices drifted into the distance, echoing meaninglessly garble in his head.  He felt his body grow icy cold, he was tumbling, falling into a deep, dark abyss from incredible, towering heights.

                                                                                      ~

"I warned you not to hit him so hard!  What if he expires before the pertinent details of the crime and the whereabouts of the loot can be extracted from him?  All we have so far is the motive for his crimes." Micen Do, seething (livid), furiously chastised (reprimanded) Mouro.

"Begging your pardon, Your Honor," the Court physician's somber voice just then interjected,

 "I'm now ready to report my diagnosis."

“Permission granted.”  Receiving the signal from Micen, physician Sullen came forward and knelt on one knee to make his report.

 "Despite the gravity of his injuries, the accused possesses a well-developed physique.  In a while he should recover his senses sufficiently to be responsive to further questioning."

"A while..." Micen exploded.  “Am I surrounded by nincompoops, total incompetents?  I demand you revive him now…Immediately!"

"I've done all that's medically possible, Your Honor," Sullen protested, trembling, "but I'm afraid that the last blow to the left temple was so serious that it left the prisoner Canute Yonn in a very critical state. To bring him around prematurely could put him in peril and leave him in an irreversible vegetative state or worse, endanger his life (bring about his death).  We must wait for the treatment I've administered, for it to gradually take effect."

"Nonsense…!”  His life (already a forfeit,) is of no consequence anymore.  Are you ..."

"Please allow me to atone for my mistake, Your Honor." Mouro hastily intervened, stepping forward and falling to one knee.  "If you permit me, sir, I'll bring him around now."

"You... You'll be made to answer for your mistake later!"  Grumbling, Micen shook his head and motioned to the Head Bailiff, Hecun.  "You, bailiff, bring him around."

Hecun rushed at once to comply as Mouro and the physician both quietly stepped aside.  Kneeling, he grabbed Canute by the shoulders and shook him fiercely, shouting, "Snap out of it!  You hear me, snap out of it!  You are in the presence of the Honorable Prefect Micen Do.  Stop this charade, this nonsense at once or you'll only suffer the worst for it!"

When this and other such threats proved ineffective, Hecun, under the watchful eyes of the Prefect, resorted to a controlled battering of the prisoner.  As Micen impatiently drummed his fingers on the table, the flustered Hecun grabbed Canute by the hair and slapped him with his free hand until his hand hurt.

"What did you do that for?" Micen interposed, freezing Hecun's hand in mid blow.

He had become rather apprehensive about Canute's condition.  "What if you've killed him?"

"Don't touch her!  Let go of her!  Mama!  Mama!  I'll kill you!  I'll kill you all!"

"Have you gone completely mad?"  Hecun went back to shaking Canute by the shoulders.  "Snap out of it!  You're in court."

A sharp pain suddenly brought Canute back to life.  Utilizing (using) his innate skill, in a split-second, overpowering (disabling) Hecun, he’d pressed his bloodied iron shackles against Hecun's throat.  In this desperate scuffle the bailiff, despite his robustness, had fared the worst.  Presently locked in the extraordinary (weird, odd) iron's grip, he was prohibited from using his full strength to neither free himself, nor subdue the prisoner.

Fortunately, Canute abruptly came to his senses, sprang back and promptly released Hecun.

"Get him up!  He seems to have regained his senses." Micen intervened.

 Two other bailiffs rushed over at once to raise Canute to his feet.

 Hecun's parting kick was frozen in mid-stream (halfway through) by Micen’s bark, "Let him be, I say!"

Staggering, Canute's bewildered gaze moved from the Head Bailiff Hecun still panting with rage, to the Prefect Micen Do, to Mouro, to the physician Sullen, and then to the two constraining (in part supporting) him by the arms.  Having suffered a serious memory lapse, his crazed eyes, inexplicably next stared at his shackled hands and feet, drenched in his own blood.

Canute’s focus once more became vacant (empty) and all voices (sounds) melted away as his tortured wits (mindset, brain) wandered back to another reality, to his mother, to his childhood.                                                                                    

The wicked past (events) cruelly now paraded before his mind's eye and triggered involuntary shudder as he anew experienced fresh anguish of all those tormented years of enslavement in the hands of the Wang family. 

He’d endured unspeakable degradation (humiliation/indignity), physical pain and malice until, finally, on his thirteenth try; he'd successfully escaped to freedom and to safety.

He grimaced coldly in satisfaction when he recalled how, in the small hours of the night, just prior to leaving the city he had snuck back into the cellar of the cursed brothel by way of a secret tunnel he'd found earlier.

Careful not to be seen, he’d forced the lock and gained entry into his mother's former room, which had remained empty for seven years to rid it of her ghost; then, exerting some effort he’d recovered the paltry sum she'd hidden under the floorboards.

03- CANUTE (in his teens)

 First, he’d made sure both Tike and Ron were in their cursed residence then, returning to the basement, he’d arranged all sorts of flammable material in strategic corners of the basement, dosed (soaked) them with lamp oil and then, at a safe distance, using a flaming arrow, he had torched the entire establishment.

 By the time the fire was noticed by the occupants, his other carefully arranged tinder had ignited all the exit doors.  The billowing smoke and searing flames shot into the Heavens, engulfing the whole building and turning it into a death trap.

Despite the danger, Canute had fearlessly stayed at the scene until he'd got solid confirmation of Tike and Ron's demise. He’d felt entirely justified for this revenge as the two culprits had grievously wronged his mother even after her death.  To save themselves paltry burial expenses and future trouble, they had secretly and unceremoniously dumped her ashes into the cold, fast flow of the Sue River.

When Canute left the city, the raging fire had already consumed an entire block before it was finally brought under control.  His heart was so hardened (by all those years of abuse) that he'd felt absolutely no remorse for the devastating destruction and the unavoidable, lost lives. 

Ensuing years though at times the obstacles lying in his path seemed insurmountable, Canute stoically persevering had carried a clear aim in his heart, to advance methodically towards that other act of retribution.

In his later teen years, fortuitously Canute had chanced on a disillusioned ex-official named Brier, a key member of a powerful gang that had been terrorizing the adjacent countryside. Brier, much impressed by Canute’s resilience and outstanding physique, took him under his wing.  The ensuing years under Brier’s protection and guidance had been the most contented one for Canute; moreover, when the gang eventually dissolved, the skills, cash and wide range of experience, had enabled Canute to move to Denor City and establish himself as an affluent citizen, laying the foundations for his ultimate revenge.

04- CANUTE YONN

   ~

"Why is he not responding?  I think he's shamming (faking) it!  I'll teach him to make a mockery of my court.  You, there!  Apply the hot iron to his chest, and then we'll see if he won't come around."

"Please, you’re Honor, the state he’s in, any further torture would kill him (finish him of)." Sullen hastily intervened, then fell to his knees to beg forgiveness for his outburst.

"Well, just touch it to his upper arm then.  That may even stop some bleeding." Micen donning a wry smile rescinded his order.

Canute's anguished cry as he was branded with the red-hot iron pierced the suspenseful air of the courtroom, curdling the blood of even a few of those eavesdroppers outside.

But mercy was sadly lacking in this court and in this Prefecture.  Many more just sneered, gloated and nodded their heads in approval as they silently congratulated the Prefect when the deliberate cruelty produced the desired result.  The conscious Canute, with his full faculties restored, was then promptly interrogated.

Briefly, though painfully, Canute Yonn recounted the obstacles and the rather odd circumstances that had led him to join the powerful gang of brigands that had terrorized the surrounding countryside for many years.  He was then grilled at length about this notorious gang and its final demise.

Micen, of course, was familiar with the case and approved of the competent, though extremely cruel measures taken by the former (previous) Magistrate Knon Zhour to bring the situation under control.  What he had been ignorant of, and now found to be of great interest, was the internal strife that had existed at the time within the gang itself.  As Canute now told it, it appeared that this infighting had, in fact, been the chief reason for the gang's demise, since those who had known of the Magistrate's planned ambush had chosen to flee rather than warn the unpopular Chief.

"I and the other fortunate few who had escaped the catastrophe immediately retrieved our shares of the collective booty from the secret reserve.  Under the assumed name and the guise of a gentleman I returned to Denor City to fulfill my life's ambition. “

05- CANUTE  YONN

“When I from a distance spotted Senson Luko, the flames of vengeance anew seared my heart. After few setbacks, I set to work on devising a perfect plan.”

 “First, I had tried to cultivate Hacket's friendship, but that overbearing lout just used me.  Then by chance I encountered Yenis and altered my tactic.  My conquest of her came rather easier than I'd anticipated, for not only did she have no moral character, but she also hated her circumstances and sought to escape it.  She was withering away from being subjected to the constant ravages of her cruel, calculating and possessive husband.”

“That place was built and secured like a fortress, and, despite all my experience, I needed her help in penetrating the maze of private quarters and reaching my destination.  My long-awaited opportunity for revenge came the night she snuck me into the private inner compound, then to the bedchamber.”

"The beast had already fallen asleep, and she had to wake him.  Without the least regret, with one swift stroke, I rid the earth of that menace.  I vented my fury on his severed head, spitting in its eyes and grinding his face under my feet.  Then I cut open his chest and ripped his cruel heart from the bloody cavity.  With it still warm in my hand I frantically gazed around for a suitable container until my eyes fell on a carved rosewood box, inlaid with jade and mother of pearls.  After tossing the contents to the floor I placed the organ into it.  Next I severed the finger that wore his precious heirloom ring, and cut a lock of his hair, both of which I placed in the same box."

Micen knit his brows and pursed his lips in an angry frown; he knew just which box it was that Canute referred to.  A few years back he had gone through a lot of trouble and expense to secure that particular 160-year-old box yet had been obliged to present it to Senson Luko after he had expressed such a liking for it in the presence of Commissioner Torrak who, incidentally, was also his cousin.

 "So, what did become of that box?" he interrupted the prisoner to snarl.

"I burned it, along with the contents, at Kuno Temple. The box was painted such that it looked like it was made of metal, but in fact, it was not, it actually was wood made to resemble a metal strongbox."

06- BURNING THE JEWEL ENCRUSTED BOX

Micen cringed.  What a pity!  The shame of it!  He motioned Canute to continue.

"Before leaving the corpse I left in his mouth the token of my mother I'd carried since childhood, an old coin with a hole in it, to remind the Luko family of the grave injustice that had been done to her."

Micen interrupted the prisoner at this point to review the records but, as he suspected, no such coin had been reported, confiscated for evidence, or recorded in any of the reports.  All who were questioned made no reference to such an obvious clue left behind.  This piece of vital evidence could have shed clear light on this case and its absence infuriated Micen.  Was this mere incompetence, or a cover-up?  How deep does corruption, the conspiracy penetrate into the ranks of my Prefecture?  Making a resolution to himself to investigate this thoroughly at a later date, he let the matter pass and directed Canute to resume his confession.

"When I emerged from the room, I found Yenis with her gathered valuables in a bundle, waiting to take flight along with me.  This was a complication I had hoped to avoid.  I tried my best to reason with her, explaining that she should return to her quarters and feign innocence.  I said she would be a hindrance and would seriously hamper my escape if I were to take her along immediately, that it would be in our best interests if I were to fetch her at a later date after things had cooled off a bit.  I made up a tale that I needed more time to secure a suitable home in another city that we could run to.  I even told her that I had some urgent, unfinished businesses elsewhere that needed to be taken care of first.  However I tried to persuade her, she just hung onto my sleeve and would not let go of it.  At the point where I was about to tear it off, she threatened to scream.  At my wit's end, I was forced to comply with her wishes.”

"After taking refuge at Kuno Temple and sacrificing the organs of her tormentor to my mother's spirit that night, I stole away with part of the valuables she had insisted that we take along.  Why not take them?  It was only right that the family be made to pay for it."

 A sudden dizziness overcame him, and Canute paused to steady himself.  "I felt sorry for having misled her, but I knew she would be all right, since I had left her the other horse with the rest of the booty in its harness."

"You are lying bandit!  You're still trying to deceive us.  Why not come clean and admit that you took it all?" Mouro burst out, unable to contain himself.

 "To think that she was devastated by being let down…hah, by the likes of you!"

"Keep your silence!"

"But you know the bastard is lying, Your Honor!" Mouro threw a furious glance at Canute and snarled.

"Who knows just how much of this sob-story of his is fiction?"  He stepped forward,

 "I implore you, Your Honor, not to be beguiled by this deceitful, cunning, dog!"

You dare to openly be insubordinate (question my ability to judge)?  Perhaps you'd like to be the one presiding in this seat? Micen inwardly fumed then checked his temper.

 "It’s up to me to decide on the validity of the testimony, not you."  He shook a threatening finger at Mouro, "I've been tolerant of your shortcomings thus far, but don't assume that you are indispensable.  One more disruptive outburst and I'll have you pilloried!  And that goes for the rest of you as well!"

The appeals of Mouro's supporters froze on their lips as Micen's finger panned by them.  Mouro changed color and dropped to his knees at once to plead for the Prefect's forgiveness and appease him with placating words.

 

(END OF SECTION 28)

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Friday, 27 June 2025

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 25

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 25


Before noon the following day, sure enough, Canute Yonn was apprehended and brought in chains to the prefecture for incarceration.  Adjourning the court case in mid-session, Micen ordered Canute to be brought before him at once for questioning.

 Short time later, with a stern visage Micen watched the prisoner Canute, beaten and bruised, as he was dragged in with chains and a heavy cangue around his neck, to stand trial.

Strapped for time, the Prefect cleared the court and, skipping the preliminary procedures, ordered his bailiffs to prepare the ultimate instruments of torture (interrogation) at once.  It came as no surprise to Micen that Mouro Kerr, anticipating this wish, had already seen to this as well.

01- MOURO KERR

 Ingenious devices of cruelty were immediately hauled (lugged) into the courtroom and, under Mouro's supervision, Canute Yonn was subjected to the most horrendous, brutal torment.

"Oh, what's the use?" Canute at long last, (unable to bear the agony) groaned.  "Who am I trying to protect, anyway? All right, I yield… I will tell all.  I would like nothing better than to expose the hypocrisy of the Luko family and reveal Senson Luko, whom I am ashamed to call 'father', for the despicable bastard he really is!" Canute, so resolved, professed publicly, his version of the true accounts.

"What kind of malicious slander is this?  How dare you besmirch a good man’s name?" Mouro's red-hot rod viciously struck across Canute Yonn's already cut and bloodied face.

The astonished Micen was very intrigued and wanted to hear more.  He quickly intervened to halt Mouro’s barbarism and then ordered to have the courtroom cleared of further nonessential personnel, leaving only the recording secretary, his assistant clerk and a miminal number of bailiffs.

 "Let him speak." Micen, his hand raised, ordered the skeptical Mouro to stand aside; then curtly addressed Canute Yonn, "What do you mean by claiming the late honorable Senson Luko was your father?  What an unmitigated gall you have!  He has (sired) no sons, only daughters."

"No sons that you know of." Canute defiantly scoffed.

"Stop your spiteful lies, impudent dog!"  The outraged Mouro again struck savagely at Canute.  "How dare you try to deceive His Honor?"

"Let him be!" Angry Micen interceded.  "If you kill him now, how are we to get at the bottom of this?" 

Though Mouro wished to protest he checked his temper (and zeal), seeing the foul mood the Prefect was in and, grinding his teeth, wrenched the burning blade away from Canute's throat and quietly stepped aside.

 "What proof do you have to substantiate this claim?" Micen voiced (posed) his next question.

"I have none Your Honor; only my word."  Canute's answer was a study in calmness.

Mouro glowered at Canute furiously then urged Micen not to be taken in by this criminal as he clenched his fist in contempt.

While Mouro seemed to be fighting the urge to pounce upon the prisoner, Micen's own feelings remained quite mixed.

 "Bring the accused closer to the bench." Micen commanded in an afterthought.  He had known Senson since childhood, being a native of Denor City himself.  Leaning over the bench, he intently examined Canute Yonn's features while he struggled to jog his boyhood memories.  Though Canute's face was burned and bruised, and most of his, admittedly handsome, features were concealed by his bloodied, short blond facial hair, Micen discerned some resemblance.

 "I know those eyes anywhere, it’s Senson's eyes all right!" Startled, he drew back then, stroking his short (well groomed) beard he mused, nodding, "Yes, there is a definite family resemblance, especially his nose.  Most definitely he's got Senson's nose, no disputing it."  Micen’s eyes now narrowed, as he sneered at the prisoner under his breath, "Fool, you could have had all of it!"  It had suddenly become clear to the Prefect why Latham and Hacket Luko had perjured themselves in court.

Micen’s contemptuous glare burrowed deep into Canute's flesh as he stormed, "What kind of monster are you that you could knowingly sleep with your stepmother and, worse still, murder, mutilate and rob your own (flesh and blood) birth father?  What you have done violates all Human decency.  It is the most unconscionable, most detestable act I've ever come across in my ten years sitting as a judge.  How dare you brazenly stand so boldly before me when you should be cowering and bowing your head low in shame?"

"Because he's a madman, a certified lunatic." came the consensus from the court clerks in back.

Ignoring this, Micen again demanded a reason for the outrage Canute had inflicted but, throwing his head back, the prisoner only let out a caustic laugh, grimaced coldly then retorted from between his clenched teeth, "Why should I owe one shred of loyalty to a man who wished me dead even before I was born?”

“My steps to achieve my purpose may have been improper; still I have no regret, nor am I ashamed of what I have done.  I know I’m right.  I'll face the Underworld King (King of Death) without flinching and, if it’s my destiny (punishment) to face this trial in my next life, I'd do it without reserve, all over again."

The prisoner's defiant response so enraged Mouro that, seeing red, he, that instant, delivered a severe, deadly blow to Canute Yonn's head, sending the accused crashing, unconscious, to the floor.  Naturally, Mouro then became the recipient of Micen's harsh reprimand till Canute was examined by the certified stated physician, Sullen, found to be alive and revived.

 

The Prefect eventually decided, in view of Mouro's genuine regret and sincere, eloquent words of apology, to tolerate his assistant's continued presence in the courtroom.  Mouro was duly warned, however, to contain his temper and that any future outbursts or disobedience would meet with the most severe repercussions.

 

Mouro, head lowered subserviently, brooded in silence off to the side as he tried to unravel the seemingly harmless facts and words spoken by certain members of the Luko family.  A sinister smile fleetingly brushed his lips as he suddenly comprehended the ugly ploy behind the conspiracy of Senson’s younger siblings to involve Canute Yonn. Moreover, the extent of which the two had gone, in encouraging Senson's offspring in his vile act of seduction and murder.  “What bastards they are…  You are deceiving, conniving, rapacious beasts; truth be dammed!  Why should I be surprised?  It’s the same everywhere; miscarriages of justice, arbitrary decisions, bribery, mutual protection, collusion and partiality.

 

Scholar Canute Yonn, by then having regained consciousness, forced to his feet and steadied, with his urgent need to be heard, he stammered incomprehensibly.

Prefect Micen pricked his ears but failed to understand or make any sense of Canute’s mutterings, except for one or two phrases, “Revenge... you can't silence me.  I will speak up.”

The scholar’s throbbing head meanwhile had made his speech incoherent at first but, gradually, with determination, he rose above his difficulties. “Yes, I shall make a clean breast of it and reveal the ugly truth for the whole world to know.  Their treachery against my mother must be exposed so that others may take heed in future.  Yes, I will tell all, all, without exception..."

Canute for a spell balefully glared at Mouro than fixed his burning gaze on Micen as he, by degrees in a resounding voice, punctuated by spurts of blood, confessed, "My beloved mother, Helga was her name, may her soul rest in peace, was the only offspring of the bond-servant Cuo, who had tended to the old Master Guzo Luko for over thirty years.

My poor dear mother (Helga) was orphaned at five, when her parents died of a plague, she was nevertheless kept on and constrained to the family's service.  She grew up with inexhaustible blows and toil, their loud commands and persistent scolding ringing in her ears from sunrise to sunset.  She endured her ill fate, adopting the persona of cheerful acquiescence so common in servants.  All those years of loyal service, of hard work, did any of it count?  Hah!  The opulent have black hearts."

"Belay the blather and get to the point!" Micen pounded his mace (scepter) on the dais.

Defiantly, Canute Yonn glared at him, then pressed on, "Despite her deprived circumstances, she had blossomed into a beautiful girl of barely fourteen when, unfortunately for her, she had unwittingly attracted the lustful desires of the first young Master, the cursed Senson Luko.”

02-HELGA

 “He pestered her from morning to night until, finally, on a fateful afternoon, he cornered her in a desolate section of the garden, arranging to have her sent there to pick peach blossoms for the Matriarch's chambers.  There, on the petal strewn ground, the rogue shamelessly, sexually assaulted her."  Canute Yonn groaned.

"So, the pretty maiden Helga was herself deflowered, what of it?" Mouro grumbled, smirking wryly.

Throwing him a venomous glance, Canute Yonn continued, "Though tormented, she bore the shame in silence, until her pregnancy was discovered, and, under interrogation, she sobbed out the details of the shameful, tragic episode to the Old Master and the Matriarch.  But it was she who was punished instead of Senson.  The jewel of the old man's eye could not be touched.  When Senson professed his innocence with affected conviction and claimed that it was he who was being victimized by my mother, Guzo chose to believe his son.  Senson, with false nobility, made it seem as if he was trying to protect her from her own promiscuous nature on account of her youth and his own compassionate, merciful heart.  Gradually he unfolded his entire fabricated account.  According to Senson it was my mother who had pursued him untiringly until the vixen, he had the unconscionable nerve to call her that, had caught him at a weak moment when he was suffering from a minor ailment, a fever after having been caught in the rain.  That particular night she had supposedly sneaked into his room once everyone was asleep and clad only in her undergarments, slid under his bed covers.  At this point, to reinforce this farce, he had even fallen on his knees and asked forgiveness from Guzo for his weakness.  The womenfolk rushed in to plead on his behalf. “

“Yes, the crafty cur continued to admit his guilt for not having the willpower to refuse her (brazen, lustful advances) and, clutching his father's feet, begged through his sobs to receive his due punishment.  His father understood for, after all, what hot-blooded young man could resist the seductive advances and improper embraces of a wanton young girl?  He had committed no crime.  Such was the knave's cunning!"

Undaunted by Mouro's clenched fists, which he had noted just out of the corner of his eye, and before Micen could launch into a reprimand for reviling the deceased, Canute Yonn quickly added, "To deepen the trap, Second Young Master Hacket, who had been in on the conspiracy from the start, came forward in support of his elder brother to confess his shame.  The servant girl Helga had, supposedly, tried to make improper advances towards him also and he was guilty of failing to report her.  He had felt, in his compassion, that if she was driven out it would be her end, for there was no other place she could turn to.  Helga was still young and impressionable and therefore could still be molded, turned with due understanding, good guidance and tolerance onto a righteous, virtuous path.  Why should the investment the family had already made in her go to waste?  Remarkable as it may seem, Guzo bought into this well-rehearsed façade (sham, charade) and as well praised both his sons for their tolerance, compassion and good sense. Bah!”

"Though her rectitude and moral integrity were known to the entire household prior to these malicious slanders, those sympathetic few were deterred from speaking on her behalf or coming to her defense when they observed how Master Guzo was totally beguiled by his sons.  Even if Guzo was only pretending, why shouldn't he take his son's word over that of a besmirched bond-servant Helga?"  Canute Yonn ground his teeth in disgust.

"Consider this your last warning!  I will not tolerate any more of your theatrical elaborations and your disrespectful reviling of the deceased."  To the satisfaction of Mouro, who also was simmering, Micen suddenly exploded, shaking a finger at Canute Yonn.

"But I am relating the facts as I had told them.  I'm not being disrespectful of your court, Your Honor.  I do not have the command over words to eloquently summarize it to Your Honor's satisfaction." Canute Yonn dryly (disdainfully, coldly) protested.  He was a condemned man, facing more torture; there was little else left for him to fear.

Tauntingly, as if to try Micen's patience, Canute continued as before, "Yes, taken in by his own sons, the infuriated Guzo Luko cursed and reviled my mother, the true victim, endlessly until his voice grew hoarse.  Then he ordered Senson, his precious jewel and the one injured most by her, to punish the culprit Helga properly.”

03- MASTER GUZO LUKO

“Calling my poor mother a most despicable, ungrateful vixen in their family’s bosom, an evil reincarnate that must be expunged before she corrupts anyone else, the brutal Senson, taking hold of a heavy staff, unmercifully rained down his vicious blows on her.  He stopped only when he thought she was dead."

Biting his lips and clenching his fists, Canute Yonn abruptly broke off at this point, beads of perspiration mingled with blood to sting his lacerations.  His face contorted in pain as he tried to suppress his bursting rage and his all-consuming contempt for his father.  He regretted that he could kill him but once as his eyes flashed fire and looked about the courtroom wildly.

 Soon he was able to restrain his emotions, grimaced coldly once again and said indignantly, "Then, barely alive, she was taken away in the middle of the night with the refuse to be mercilessly discarded (dumped) in a deep ditch outside of the city walls.  Left to die a horrible death in pools of her own blood, she was exposed to the rain, the bone-chilling cold and the scavenging rats and insects that came to gorge themselves on her infected wounds.  By some miracle she survived the ordeal until, just after dawn; a peasant's dog led his master to the spot where she lay.  Taking pity on her, the kindly peasant who was called Tresor rescued her from the pit and carried her on his back to the safety of his home.

 

(END OF SECTION 25)

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