Showing posts with label tragedy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tragedy. Show all posts

Friday, 29 August 2025

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 7

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 7

01- NEVETSECNUAC  (JP)

Nevetsecnuac, as a just then released floating spirit witnessed his out-of-body tragic demise: He saw his catapulted, airborne head hitting the immense boulder a few feet away with a thud while his decapitated body that same instant simply collapsing lifeless to the ground. And ironically at that very moment, the drizzling rain drops amalgamating (merging) with the gushing blood from the severed carotid artery (of the neck), in that cumulative pool, instantaneously dyed (tinted) the pretty white wildflowers that Nevetsecnuac had been so fond of, into scarlet (crimson) hue.

Before the ground had a chance to completely quench its thirst, Zonar, with a sinister, venomous grin, thoughtful air and leaden steps, walked over to Nevetsecnuac's severed head and, halting at the spot, summoned it up to the strange object in his grasp. The bloody head was slowly but surely was absorbed (infused, seeped into) by the object, disheveled hairs and all.

02-  ZONAR KUNTZU - 2 (9)

Zonar with a malevolent grin, he then dramatically kissed the knob(handle) and, throwing his head back, ejected horrid laughter, after which he indifferently tugged it beneath his belt; his blazing sword sheathed (in scabbard, casing)  and, with a cold glint in his eyes, never looking back, not even once, he swaggered slowly towards his tethered mount.

Summarily, with Nevetsecnuac's head permanently imprisoned alongside Fradel Rurik Korvald's, both within the leather-bound rod object, Zonar vaulted onto his magnificent steed and galloped into distance.

                                                                                      ~

Nevetsecnuac’s soul (essence, spirit) already restrained (held captive) in the netherworld, meanwhile, riled and despondent, he’d watched Zonar’s unimpeded departure with his prizes.

Hearing a shuffling noise behind him just then, Nevetsecnuac quickly turned to witness the large gathering of troubled, grim apparitions. As these ghosts drew nearer still and floated to encircle him in a tight, impenetrable cordon, some clasped their heads and tore out clumps of their hair, tragically wailing while others shook an accusing finger at Nevetsecnuac and cursed or severely reprimanded him.

"It was your vanity that made you vulnerable and made you fight that devilish villain."

"You should have resisted him."

"You should have set your priorities right at the start and saved your strength for the chief culprit instead."

"You received ample warning not to engage him, why did you not heed his advice and flee to safety at the start while you still had a chance to do so?  Now you have forfeited your life and your life's ambition is lost forever in vain. This dreadful ending should come to pass- after your honorable father the benevolent Seventh Prince Shon Alric Therran Valamir, the illustrious Lord Shonne Gulbrand and the heroic Lord Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon and countless others sacrificed so much to avail you of this chance. Oh, calamity…oh such misfortune!"

"This letdown is inexcusable!"

"You should be sorely mortified, ashamed of yourself!  Ashamed to face the Lord of Heaven; that is, if he ever designs (condescend) to see you."

"Oh, what's the use?  Why should we waste our time remonstrating with you?  You are beneath our contempt!" Some scowled.

"It’s because of you that we are all now doomed, doomed; with our last chance of salvation gone forever!"

"Ah, it’s no use.  It’s too late; too late for everything; too late even for regrets."

Other, kindlier spirits were not so hard on Nevetsecnuac, though they still condemned him.

"Were we wrong in pinning all our hopes on you?"

"Did we overestimate your abilities?"

"Perhaps it was too much to ask, to expect of one lone (solitary) mortal, as young and inexperienced as you, to rectify this wrong.  Still, your uncle Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon taught you well.  Furthermore, you had great potential, and you did overcome all the other prior perils."

"Was it fate that played this cruel, oh cruelest trick on you and us by bringing forth this obstruction at this latest stage?"

"But, chance or no chance, you should have succeeded.  You can't escape, can’t be absolved, not entirely, from all the blame.”

“With your innate intelligence, could you not have assessed your situation in time to salvage it?  You also didn't have to fight him to the bitter end, especially after you realized the hopelessness of your situation.  Isn't retreat a good part of any fighting strategy?"

"Therefore, our brothers are right in condemning you.  The fault lies entirely with you."

"You are solely to blame for not living up to your full potential."

"Look how badly you fouled things up!"

They shook their heads and ground their teeth in anger.

"You, our last hope, have let us down so miserably.  You failed to avenge us, just when success was within your grasp."

"Why did you have to go throw it all away?  If only you had not succumbed too…"

"Ah, what's the use?  All is now lost with no other worthy one left alive to champion our cause."

"What could be more tragic than this?  Forever barred from Heaven, we, loyal subjects of Wenjenkun, your illustrious forefathers, we are all condemned to roam this Earth in chains for all eternity.  This is the gravest consequence of your failure!"

"Woe to us!"

"Woe to them!"

"Woe to you!"

03- NEVETSECNUAC IN THE UNDERWORLD

Nevetsecnuac's soul, standing in doleful (forlorn) supplication, bowed his head still lower in shame, regretting his folly in underestimating Zonar's prowess, for not fleeing when he had the chance.  He wanted so much to implore their forgiveness but, though he tried, no one took any notice of him.  Instead, the din of their legitimate grievances and the intensity of their repeated wailing deafened his ears and silenced his tongue.

"After the siege, when defenses failed and I was captured alive, I was flailed (flogged) to death, but not before witnessing my comrades’ crueler demises, those that fought bravely alongside me, being torn apart or crushed to death." one wailing ghost came forward to demand.  "I suffered so many unspeakable hardships in my earlier life.  I'm suffering so much now.  It’s inconceivable to think that I, we all, will not be vindicated, that we won't be avenged at long last.  Oh, will this wretchedness never end?"

04- WRETCHED PLACE

"Stone missiles raining on us day and night within the confines of fortress, the tragic cries of the wounded (or the maimed) trapped under the collapsing walls and beams, still haunts my ears and robs me of any peace (solace)." Another came forth to profess.  "Is there really no other left alive, competent enough, to avenge us?"

"My whole village was burned to the ground by the imperial troops." an elderly woman whimpered.  "None escaped the searing flames of this deliberately set catastrophe.  How can all these tragic souls roaming this earth find any peace or lasting rest without being avenged?"

"Our village was flooded.  Men, women, and children drowned to give Zakhertan Yozdek’s army the advantage in a naval assault.  Can they all have suffered for nothing?"

"Our homes were razed to dust." Yet another wept.

"What about his infant children?" one sympathetic soul, came forward to ask.  "Can we not implore Heaven to spare them?"

The multitude of shaking heads told him otherwise.  They could not reach the ears of Heaven.  It was Nevetsecnuac’s fate to perish young.

"My loyal regiment fought a desperate battle to the bitter end in our defense of the besieged Kosuk City.", the tired, somber voice of an old general exclaimed, reminiscing.

 "We were overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of Zakhertan Yozdek's army and by their superiority in arms.  His were the picked troops, the best in the land.  When they penetrated our walls and entered the city they committed such heinous atrocities, so vile they were that it could never be wholly described."

Another officer groaned, "In our offensive campaign, just as we had gained more ground, they successfully cut us off from the main body of our army and the supplies.  As we were trapped by an onslaught from four directions, they set fire to the grass around our perimeter; every last one of us perished by the raging flames."

"Our contingent was deliberately isolated from the main force, too and lured into ambush where all expired by their vile butchery." another officer gritted his teeth.


"All the defenders at Juko Pass, including myself, were ensnared, then buried alive.  The traitorous Zakhertan Yozdek's rage still not appeased, he had his henchmen round up our families and had them killed as well, their corpses then piled on top of us."

"In my hometown, all the young men who resisted were brutally trampled to death under the Royal infantry horses’ hoofs in the central square as part of a war game, while we, their parents and families were made to watch, till our turn came to die."  The elderly man sobbed then, choking back his tears, added, "But my poor, proud, brave boy, he cursed Zakhertan Yozdek, that vile usurper, to the very end."

“I've heard some of these atrocities before.” Nevetsecnuac tearfully reflected. 

Some had been re-counted by Lord Asger Zhon prior to Nevetsecnuac’s departure; several more accounts had been relayed by Fradel Rurik Korvald erstwhile the night Nevetsecnuac had left him; and then a great deal more had been narrated by the faithful Lu Moldan, the beggar from Gulbrand Province.

“Was Heaven blind? How could it stand by and let the fiend (man) who’d been the instigator of these immeasurable crimes, not be struck down? Zakhertan Yozdek, the villainous usurper… With these grave crimes against humanity on his head, how could he still exist…to?"

"My precious, most handsome boys, one barely sixteen, the other seventeen,” Another elderly woman had shrieked just then, however, interrupting Nevetsecnuac’s incensed (feelings and), exasperated thoughts.  “They were dragged through the streets and afterwards their tattered corpses were thrown over the falls! “She turned and with upturned face and a mouth showing sparse teeth, she snarled at Nevetsecnuac next. 

 “Now look at what you’ve done… It’s all because of you, Zakhertan Yozdek will live to a ripe old age!"

"Ah, the brutality of Zakhertan, the extent of it can never fully be told."  Adjacent to her, an ancient ghost with white beard down to his midriff shook his head and then mournfully nodded.

"His wolfish troops and murderous guards were given liberty to run amok in our city of Kier.  They inflicted unspeakable atrocities of the innocent populous, young and old alike."

“Now… take a good look.”  He held out two round orbs in his hand. "These eyes, I plucked them out in my grief after seeing those appalling acts committed at the hand of the barbaric imperial troops, which afterwards, many officers standing on the sidelines, treating it as entertainment, even placed wagers on the nature of the outcome of the wounds. 

06- ZAKHERTAN'S WOLFISH  TROOPS

“In my province, the tombs of our ancestors were indiscriminately defiled. “Another ghost chimed in. “They trampled over the dead, excreted the coffins (caskets) and cast aside dismembered corpses, looking to pillage valuable funeral offerings and items within the graves.  Even an invading enemy nation would not have been so vile, so unconscionable, and so despicable; alas, terrible evil has shrouded this land!  I cursed the day I was born and shed many bloody tears for all the unfortunate souls, including my own.  What crime have I committed? I have asked this of Heaven, repeatedly…But no answer has come. You tell me, what crime have we, any one of us committed that Heaven has so completely forsaken us?  Yes, you were our very last hope.  Was it unfair of us to expect so much from but one youth?  Tell me, please, would someone tell me why we must suffer so?  Will this tragedy never end?"

"How many more must perish at Zakhertan's cruel hand?"

“Wow to us…Pity… oh pity us…”  The wailing reached a crescendo (climax) with increasingly more spirits (ghosts) joining in.

“Is there really nothing I can do to atone for my mistakes?  “Nevetsecnuac’s heart incessantly wrenched with disgrace and bottomless sorrow while blazing remorse, eternally scorched his soul to cinders.

Clenching his fists, he bowed his head low in shame. “Is there anything, anything at all, I can do to make amends, to redeem these tragic souls?”

 Not resigned to this ill fate, he lifted his eyes imploringly and made his plea, beseeching Heaven for one more chance.  But hope was not to be, instead, Nevetsecnuac saw his grandfather, Emperor Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir, his father, Seventh Prince Shon Alric Therran Valamir and the other members of the Royal Family all, being escorted down to Earth in chains. 

His grandfather Emperor Zuronghan A.T. Valamir turned to glance at Nevetsecnuac with solemn air and disapprovingly shook his head.

Endless tears coursing down his cheeks, Nevetsecnuac rushed to at once fall on his knees and respectfully prostrate himself before his grandfather, to beg forgiveness.

The emperor, with a grave face, gave him no chance to speak and right away scorned Nevetsecnuac, "You are not worthy of being our grandson nor are you fit to approach our Royal Presence.  Be gone from our sight!"

07- EMPEROR ZURONGHAN ALRIC THERRAN VALAMIR

The Emperor Zuronghan Valamir then, with great dignity, turned his back to Nevetsecnuac.

In unison, the rest echoed the sentiments of the emperor and each, in turn, abruptly turned their backs to him as Nevetsecnuac tried to make his appeal or implore their forgiveness.

Lord Shonne Gulbrand’s apparition, bound in chains as well, became visible just then but His Lordship also shook his head in disapproval and, shedding a solitary tear, he also turned away and floated into the distance.

In deep dismay, Nevetsecnuac shook his head and stamped his foot. “If only I had not…

 Had not what?” This was something entirely different.  As confusion set in, Nevetsecnuac racked his brains to recollect, “Recollect what?”

Though Nevetsecnuac knew it was only mid-morning, the Earth that instant suddenly fell into twilight.  The overwhelming, grave atmosphere heralded (portended) a new gargantuan disaster or a colossal catastrophe.

 

(END OF SECTION 7)

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)

                                                                                                  ~

Friday, 4 July 2025

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 27

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 27

01- CANUTE

This time after Canute had escaped from his prison (cellar), he skirted the walls and made straight for the storeroom (his makeshift bedroom).  His bedding, however, had been removed already and some of the other stuff cleaned out; as his return was not expected, a few useless chests and pieces of broken furniture had been piled high (stored there), to utilize the space.  Veering around the discarded pieces, Canute tried the knob that led to his mother's boudoir (bedroom).

Finding it unlocked, he, elatedly was about to open the door to sneak in when some noises from within stayed his hand.

First, he steadied his breathing then stealthily pried the door ajar and craned his neck to peer in through the crack.  Canute's hatred and revulsion intensified seeing one of the girls, one called Juke, rummaging through his mother's personal things, her chests and drawers.  Tike was sitting woodenly by the window with a stern face, clutching his mother's small jewelry box.

 "Thieves… Bandits!  Vile beasts!  I'll make you pay for this!" gnashing his teeth he cursed them under his breath.    Suddenly his heart stilled when, to his dismay, he saw Tike discovering an old foreign coin, the thing his mother prized most.  It had a hole in it and, when he had been much younger, Canute remembered her wearing it around her neck.  This much he knew of her past, that this strange coin had been the sole possession left to her by her deceased parents.  She had been allowed to keep it up to now because it had always been deemed worthless by others.  He contemplated rushing in to grab it from Tike's claws.

"This… It’s another worthless piece of shit."  Much to Canute's relief Tike, after a brief examination of it, threw it disdainfully to the floor where it rolled soundlessly under a chair.  Tike growled at Juke not to dawdle.  She was fast running out of patience.  The intensive search had lasted for half an hour or more and had produced nothing of substance to satisfy Tike's greed.

"This can't be all," she pursed her lips, looking at the jewel box in her grip, then shifted her gaze to the sleeping woman.

02- SLEEPING HELGA

 "She must have hoarded her gold and jewelry somewhere else," Tike hissed, "but where?  Where could the sneak have put it?  Try out those drawers over there.  She can't outsmart me.  Yes, those ones, and look harder or you'll see the back of my hand!"

That night his mother's condition had worsened.  Tike was forced to defer her usual customer, a pesky middle-aged man who reeked of alcohol, to one of the other girls.  Thoroughly put out, Tike had entered sick Helga’ room with Juke to ransack the place.  Though she took it all, she still suspected the girls of accepting secret gifts from their gentlemen’s customers and shamelessly hoarding them in various secret places.  After all, that's how she had secured her own future, gained her freedom and present status.  Despite all the effort, the next few hours still proved fruitless.

"Imagine, leaving me high and dry, like this!  If she thinks I'm going to pay for her funeral out of my own pocket, she has another thing coming!  Even an unmarked grave costs a pretty penny these days." Tike ranted and raved.

 She then turned to berating Juke; when her voice got hoarse, “Oh, never mind!  You're utterly useless too!"  She finally called off the search.

  "I'll fetch Ron up tomorrow to rip this place apart, piece by piece, and then we'll see what will turn up.”  “Hmm… Perhaps her brat knows of the stash’s whereabouts? If worse comes to worse, I'll simply have Ron wring it out of that useless little horror?  Imagine that!  I take them in under my roof and provided for them all those years, even bringing up their bastards, showing them all that consideration and kindness and, what do I get out of it in the end…nothing?"  Huffing and puffing she got to her feet, with a sweep of her sleeve and curses on her lips, she then stormed out of the room with Juke timidly following close on her heels.

03-TIKE OUTRAGED AT NOT FINDING ANYTHING

No sooner was the door closed than Canute (emerging from his hiding place) burst inside and rushed to his mother's side.  Climbing onto the big bed, he snuggled up to his mother and whispered in her ear, "Wake up, mama.  They're gone."

 When she failed to respond he gently shook her.  "Wake up, mama.  You must wake up.  We have to get out of here tonight.  Tike means to kill you, mama, I heard her just now, heard her talking about burying you in an unmarked grave.  Mama, mama, please wake up!"

Stirring faintly, she meekly groaned, "Senson.  Why?  Why?"

"No, it’s me, mama…me, Canute.  Wake up, mama, you can't be dreaming now, not at a time like this.  You must wake up!"  He rocked her more urgently.

"Water...oh, I'm so parched."  Her hand gripped her throat.

 "Please, I need some water!  Oh, my head hurts so much!"  She placed the back of her hand to her forehead, her eyes still shut tight.

Her faint request was promptly, solicitously fulfilled but she was too weak, too frail to rise.  Bracing her, Canute placed some fluffed up pillows at her back.  He held the cup to her pallid, trembling lips and helped her swallow a few drops.  As he brushed back the loose tufts of hair stuck to her temples and affectionately stroked her clammy, sweat-drenched forehead he gasped in gloom, despite himself, "Oh, mama, you're burning up!"

 Her condition gave him further cause for fright and had plunged him into deep despair.  She was so sick, how was he going to get her away to safety now?  "Oh, I wish you hadn't drunk that potion, mama," he gently admonished her.  "I knew it would make you worse.  I knew it would only hurt you.  Tike is a beast, an evil, fat beast!"

"Is that you, Canute…Canute?" her eyes opened slightly.

"Yes, mama, I'm here," he answered meekly, hanging his head and biting his lip to hold back the tears.

"Were you just now swearing at Tike?"  Canute grunted an acknowledgment.  She closed her eyes again and sighed, "Oh, son, won't you ever learn?"

04- SLEEPING HELGA

"They locked me in the cellar again, mama, but I broke out.  They moved all my bedding, too," he burst out indignantly, looking in the direction of his room.

  "Mama," after a moment's pause, he nestled closer to urgently warn her, "You must be strong.  You must get well.  Tike means to kill you.  I heard her say so just now," suddenly his face hardened, and he clenched his fists, "but I won't let them hurt you, mama.  I won't let them get near you.  I'll, I'll protect you."  He resolutely dashed off to secure both doors, wedging a chair against the main door's knob.

"We'll stay locked up here until you get well."  He climbed back up to her side with a cold grin of satisfaction.  "I'll steal some food if you're hungry, mama.  I'm a big man now," he assured her with a nod.  "I'm seven years old; I can take care of you now."

"Canute?  Canute?  Oh, here you are, my precious."  She appeared not to have heard a word he had said but knowing he was by her side was enough to comfort her and she heaved a long, deep, painful sigh.

A few moments later, more of her faculties (senses) regained, Helga opened her eyes.  But Canute's wretched condition at once plunged her heart into abysmal pain and she began to weep with grief.  "Oh, my poor darling, what have they done to you?"  

She reached out with a frail hand to touch the red abrasions (scrapes, scratches) over his left eyebrow and those other marks of abuse on the left cheek.  “Oh, my precious, does it hurt much?"

"I'm all right, mama.  It doesn't hurt, really."  Canute, putting on a brave face, slapped the bruise, bearing the pain with a smile.  "See, it only looks bad.  I'm strong, they can't ever hurt me."

05-CANUTE ACTING TOUGH

"Oh, my poor, brave boy, I love you so much."  Cradling him in her arms, she pressed his battered head to her bosom and sobbed tragically.

Her hot tears fell onto his cheeks as he looked up to again disclaim his pain and urged her, "Please don't cry, mama, or you'll get sicker.  You must get well fast, so we can get out of here.  We’ll go somewhere else, anywhere but here, mama… Please open your eyes mama?"  He pulled his head away and sat up.  His face turned to the door of the storeroom, his room, and misgivings stirred in him.  He hesitated before continuing, "Mama, Tike is a liar.  You won't listen to her, will you mama?  I know you need pretty clothes but please, please don't send me away from you! I promise when I grow up, I won’t want to get married. And I could never ever hate you mama!"  He bit his lip, his face burning with fire.  "I love you mama; I don’t never, ever want to be parted from you!" Again, he pleaded in a whimper.

"Oh, my poor darling,” she caressed his face.  "You’ve had such a scare.  Of course I won't.  I could never condemn you to, such a cruel fate.  I could never bear to part with you either, you are my life."

 Weeping and trembling, she pressed her face against his brow.  "I only said that to Tike, to stop them from hitting you.  As soon as I'm able to, we'll get away from here, I promise.  We'll go far, far away."  Sighs punctuated her resolute words.

Gratefully, irrespective of the pain, Canute Yonn wound his arms around his mother and hugged her tight as though he was afraid of letting go.

 Words crammed his throat at first but then, vehemently gesticulating, he poured out his grievances against Tike and Juke who had ransacked the place.  As Helga listened passively, her strength gradually had begun to ebb; she felt parts of her body going numb and was fearful that Canute might notice her failing condition.  But Canute suddenly recalling the coin just then darted down from the bed and, crawling on his hands and knees avidly began searching the area under and around the chair where he had last seen the coin roll. 

When he returned to her side clasping the coin her lackluster eyes were wearily closing.

"I have it here, mama.  It's now in my safekeeping."  She did not see or hear him.

"Oh, mama, I hope you’ll get better soon, very soon.  I'm afraid."  He spoke almost in a whisper as he hung his head low in hopeless emotion.  Suddenly terror gripped his heart.  Would she get better?  What if...?  He clenched his jaws tight, looking away, trying to hold back his tears but, as if in defiance, his eyes reddened and he sniffled.

With great effort she patted the back of his head and forced a smile to her pallid lips.

 "You mustn't be afraid, my precious.  I'll get well.  I'm just feeling tired, that's all."

But even as she said this, she realized that her condition was indeed serious, perhaps irreversible, and became equally apprehensive for her precious Canute.  With a look of despondency on her face she sighed, "Oh, my poor, wretched darling.  What will become of you after I'm gone?  Who will take care of you then?"  She buried her face in her pillow and quietly wept, the tears gushing like streams to drench the pillow in minutes.  Their coolness gave her some relief.

At his wits’ end to find ways to comfort his mother, Canute clenched his fist and softly cried out, "Oh, if only papa was here.  He would take us away from all this.  He would keep us safe and make everything all right."

"Your papa…?"  Her crying ceased as she looked at him in great surprise.

Before she could go on Canute interceded and placed his hand over her lips.  "Oh, mama, please don't tell me he's dead again.  I know he's very much alive; I’m a big boy now and you can't deceive me any longer but why, why can't we go live with him?"

The intense pain from conflicting emotions and remorse burned at her soul.  Immersed in total misery, her heart palpitating wildly sent the blood rushing to her (brain) head and she became quite dizzy from the throbbing, splitting pain; suddenly, an anguished cry escaped her lips, “Oh, I've been so wrong, so very wrong in keeping the truth from you."

 Canute's eyes lit up as his heart filled with hopeful anticipation. This was it… Long at last he might learn all the missing info about his dad. And then, he will come and save them.

But what Canute heard next was totally unexpected and blunt details terribly angst (wrenched) his heart.

 "Your father is a monster, a vile, cruel heartless beast.  You must stay away, clear away from him.  Promise me child that you'll never go seek him out."  Her cheeks afire, she looked searchingly, intently into his bewildered, disbelieving eyes.

Her obvious distress (anxiety) forced Canute to stammer out his acquiescence though, in his heart, he had no intention of keeping it.

Helga, seeing that Canute needed to be convinced, tearfully bemoaning their cruel fate, gradually, unfolded the rest, the entire, painful truth about Canute’s father.

Helga confessed how, at first, it was only the burning desire for vengeance that had sustained her and, how unwittingly for a time, she had almost transferred that hatred to her innocent little baby, Canute, who bore such a likeness to that cursed Senson Luko.

 She had lingered in this tormented state for so many years, torn between her intense abhorrence of Senson verses, the innate, powerful bond that existed between mother and child, till eventually her emotions had sorted themselves out.

 As Canute grew up and she, wanting to see him grow up healthy and have a normal life, had forced her to forsake vengeance and bury those dark, painful memories that were eating her alive.

"Oh, my precious, it was wrong of me to have carried such hatred in my heart for so long, but I could not help it. As it were, it irreversibly sapped my life's blood, drained my youthful vitality from my veins and left me infirm, a shriveled up ailing fool that I've become.  My own folly (psychosis, obsession) has been my undoing, not anything Tike has done or could do.  Now it’s too late for regrets, too late for anything."  Her words were punctuated by deep sighs and tearful sobs.

"Please, darling, don't be like me.  Don't be like your senseless, useless mother who has thrown her life away on, hate.  Bury the past for good and leave it where it belongs.  Forget Senson.  Forget that you've ever had, a father.  Forget what he has done to me, to us.”

“I had to tell you these hard truths to make you understand.  I know how inquisitive and stubborn your innate nature is; however, you must desist and never, ever contact him.  Stay away; stay clear away from that unconscionable beast if anything should ever happen to me."  She paused to wipe away her tears and blow her nose.

She was fearful lest she should lapse unconsciously before she had finished her say, so ignoring all the signs of alarm, she pushed on relentlessly.

 Her hoarse voice took on a note of urgency as she counselled him, "Be strong, son, and get away, far, far away from this miserable, horrible place.  Now, don't be obstinate!  Promise me you'll do as I've asked."  Receiving an obedient, reluctant nod, she continued, "Remember, Canute, beneath that third, loose board, and the one I'd shown you earlier."  She pointed to a spot on the floor beneath the overstuffed chair where Tike had been sitting.  "There's a small amount saved up.  You can use it for your escape.  You must get away, far, far away from here, child.  Oh yes, one more thing..."  She had to stop for breath. 

Exertion, the wear and tear, were beginning to take its toll on her.  She shifted the covers to conceal the stain of the hemorrhaging from him.

"Trust no one…No one other than Nikish, perhaps.  The old gardener likes you; I know.  Yes, ask his help but only his, no one else," she stammered despondently turning her face away. 

06-NIKKISH (THE OLD GARDNER)

Her head was swimming, and her face had again turned ghostly pale.  She sighed softly and closed her eyes.  With great effort she murmured, "Tonight.  Remember.  You must flee this wretched cage tonight!"

Yes, mama, we'll get away.  I'll ask Nikish.  He'll help us escape, don't you worry," new hope sprang up in Canute's heart as he elatedly responded.  He liked Nikish, the sympathetic, countrified old widower Canute'd lately befriended and he knew that, if asked, he'd do his best to help them flee to safety.

"No, child… My poor, poor baby!  You're so frantic that you're not listening; you're not hearing what I'm saying.  My wish, my desire, is that only you break free.  Forgive me, Canute, my precious, but I can't come with you.  I don't have the strength.  I don't think I have very much longer left to live."

He was already half-way to the door with the intent of fetching Nikish when, turning, he'd rushed back to her side.  Clutching her hand, he cried frantically, "No, mama, you mustn't speak like that.  You'll get well.  Don’t lose hope. We'll both get away together, you'll see.  I won't leave you, mama.  I can't leave you.  Let me go get Nikish, he'll help us."

"No, I can't.", she panted, gasping for breath.  "Now go, please go."

"I won't.  You promised.  You promised you'd never leave me!"  Canute, livid with fear, clung to her tightly.  "Why?  Why are you trying to drive me away?  Please, Mama.  Don't you love me anymore?  I'll be good.  I'll be-behave.  Don't push me away, mama.  Please, mama."

"Oh, child," she gasped in exasperation.  "Why, why are you making this so difficult for me?  Please, precious, do try to understand.  I'm not abandoning you, not by choice."

 She put her trembling hand over his and, her throat constricting, managed to whisper, "Don't you know, my darling, that wherever you go, I'll be there.  Even, even in spirit form I'll always be watching ov…"  The last word froze midway on her lips and her painful breathing grew weaker and weaker still.  There was a slight gurgling sound from her throat as all the color drained from her face.  Then she opened her lackluster eyes a crack and her lips quivered as if wanting, trying to speak, but no sound emerged.  There was no breath to carry it out.

"Mama... Mama!"  An inexplicable fear wrenched Canute's heart in its iron grip as his hysterical, muffled cries pierced the cold night air.  Recoiling in terror, then wretchedly clutching her limp body, he collapsed over her weeping.  Trying to breathe some life back into her he hugged her with all his might, shaking her and rocking back and forth.

His revulsion against Senson intensified.  "I hate him, mama.  I hate him!  I'll make him pay for what he has done to you," he ranted.

 Like a mad bull his mouth foamed in all-consuming rage as his nails drew blood from his clenched fists.  All the pent-up anger, resentment, terror, gloom, pain, loneliness, sorrow, despair and disillusionment mixed together to tear his soul to shreds.  With these fiery storms erupting in his heart, the hot tears gushed ceaselessly in torrents to wash his burning face clean and drench his mother's pale blue gown.

Subsequently, in accordance with his mother’s last wishes, Canute had tried hard to purge his heart from that consumptive hatred of Senson, but in vain.

 Oh, how he had loathed Senson then, and thereafter! That vile beast was responsible for all the misery and grief heaped on his beloved mother. 

He’d also promised at her deathbed to forget (to put all hatred behind him) but tried as he did, he could not, nor could he forgive.

 How could he?  How could he not avenge Helga, his darling mother, who had been so wronged and so tormented all her life? 

The injustice wrought by Senson had seared Canute's heart so completely, with such fiery intensity that he would never again be able to staunch its blaze.

(END OF SECTION 27)