LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 25

Once outside, Frastos and Briac’s path led them hurriedly through bustling streets, intersections, and busy marketplaces.  Turning eventually into the side streets, then alleys followed winding pathways that skirted the more dangerous neighborhoods until they eventually halted before the awesome gate of Guzor Temple. 

01- FRASTOS - JP 10

Frastos with some effort pushed open the creaking bronze gate that was flanked by two giant (menacing looking, fierce) marble door Gods and then stepped aside to allow Briac to enter the temple grounds first. Once inside, Briac, with an uneasy, unapplicable feeling suddenly gripping his chest cavity (certain trepidation suddenly gripping his chest) halted his step (stayed his footing) and then with vigilant (wary) eyes surveyed the dilapidated, totally devoid of soul (empty, deserted) courtyard.  Suddenly, however, both Frastos and Briac had instantly found themselves facing an imposing veteran warrior (in his forties) wielding a cudgel; one who was far stronger and more agile than he let on, having manifested god knows from where, on the very scene.

"This area is forbidden to all."  He glared at Frastos and Briac with equal hostility, as he stood firm menacingly blocking their way.  "Trespassing is punishable by death.  Heed my advice and turn back at once then no harm shall befall you."

"Good sir, we are law abiding citizens."  Briac bowed gallantly, "Of course we shall do as you say."

"As soon as we are allowed to see the: “Plum blossoms that adorn the beauty passing under them."  Frastos hastily interjected (cut in).

The warrior narrowed his eyes and with the stern visage scrutinized (eyed) them both suspiciously for a brief spell; subsequently, a curious wry smile registering fleetingly on his lips, as he turned to address Frastos.

"Why didn't you say so in the first place," he ejected in his strong, husky voice, nodding.

His effort at being congenial clashed terribly with his fiery, hostile gaze.

02 - WARRIOR GUARD

"I suppose there is no harm in letting you take a peek.  Please follow me, gentlemen," with a gesture of his hand he led them to the interior.

"I must ask you to keep quiet next time.  Let me do the talking." Briac whispered, tugging on Frastos' sleeve as they were led in tow.

They had passed under several archways, had taken what seemed like a thousand turns, until they had lost all sense of direction.  After descending an endless set of stone stairs, they suddenly found themselves in a huge underground hall.  Brilliant frescoes adorned the walls.  Scenes depicted deities and sacrificial rites, so painfully detailed, so lifelike that both Briac and Frastos cringed visibly despite themselves.

 The warrior guard bade them wait in the center of this great hall then disappeared swiftly behind one of a set of six great doors.

He reemerged a moment later with ten stout armed men in tow who swiftly surrounded Briac and Frastos.  "What business do you say you have with us?" one, who looked to be their leader, stepped forward to demand.

Again, Frastos jumped in before Briac had the chance to speak, "I, Briac, have delivered here to you, sir, the scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald himself, for just and due elimination."  He pointed at Briac.

The blood in Briac's veins froze in fright.  Understanding the treachery, his face darkened in anger.

"You…"  Before Briac had the chance to utter another word, however, all ten stepped forward towards him and, in a choreographed dance of steel, instantly cut him down to pieces, right where he stood, he was dead before he could have another intake of breath (or exhale).

When it was promptly over, "We thank you." their leader bowed to Frastos.

03- LEADER

 "We've been monitoring your advance closely since the checkpoint at Zakoz and were on the point of launching a fool proof assault tonight.  Now, instead, we will feast to our easy success since you so brilliantly spared us the trouble.  I hope that you will enlighten us during our celebrations on how you successfully lured Fradel Rurik Korvald away from captain Zunrogo's protective custody and delivered him right into our lair.”

Frastos had, in fact, hoped to leave immediately but he could see no way out.

He graciously consented, though he knew that this meant his life would be forfeited.  He had, however, accepted this assignment despite the likelihood of this very outcome, so he trailed the Chief through the six great doors to the banquet hall where the feast was to be held in his honor.

He was quickly ushered to a seat next to the Chief, which was a mark of privilege and, an apt tribute for his rendered service tonight. The table was already set with mountain of meat, all kinds of local delicacies, towering exotic fruit and countless jugs and cups, all filled to the brim with variety of alcoholic brew (beverages).

04- FRASTOS - JP 09

 Frastos ate his fill and drank merrily; knowing that soon the news of the captain and two guards booking passage then sailing off on a riverboat would reach them and expose his deception.  By then, however, Fradel Rurik Korvald would be safely away from their murderous reach, and he would have done his duty.  All he could hope for now was an honorable and glorious, swift death. Looking around him, he sized up the opposition and contemplated which ones he could dispatch into the nether world before his own fatality.

An unseen eye of a Kozur affiliate (cloaked in dark attire), known as simply Tenzo, perched on a roof, however, carefully studied this courageous youth that had been so callously sacrificed by Captain Zunrogo. Kozurs could use such a valiant, highly skilled warrior; in fact, Frastos had been for some time now under their radar, a surveillance, and owing to the favorable report, Tenzo had already sent a message (written word through carrier pigeon) requesting backup, for his planned rescue. Hidden by the shadows, he now waited for the apt opportunity, as he contemplated on the steps he would take, for that successful execution of his most daring plan.

05-TENZO (KOZUR AFFILIATE)JP

      ~

 “It’s inconceivable but, owing to the Xekor Festival, every boat in the harbor has been booked solid.  Even so, Tizan, capably found an official dispatch boat returning to Kenzor port and having settled the amount of the fare, has booked us a joint passage on this craft." Zunrogo succinctly informed Fradel, as they hastened towards the bustling harbor.

Making every effort to be congenial, he smiled, "The inconvenience will be for a short duration only. Once in Kenzor we stand a better chance at obtaining swifter, more suitable transportation to Channing.  Taking this roundabout route may also deter any pursuit from those who wish us harm."

"What about Frastos and Briac; are they to be left behind?” Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) inquired. 

“Their services are no longer required?"  The captain ejected curtly.

Fradel looked away uneasily, "Briac I understand, but Frastos?"

Zunrogo had ceased to be surprised by Fradel's keen insight.  "It could not be helped." He said coldly, keeping up the fast pace.

"At least Frastos witnessed the ten thousand cuts on…" Tizan, walking on Fradel's other side, had started to say when he was abruptly silenced by an icy glare from Zunrogo.

Still that partial phrase had been enough for Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) to grasp the unhappy outcome.

06-NEVETSECNUAC  JP 3

“So, that had been the fate of the traitor, Briac?  But what of Frastos; had he been sacrificed merely to give them this small leeway?”  Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) was dismayed by the thought. Though he had little to do with Frastos, since the time at the first Inn where they had made eye contact through the hole in the tapestry, he was, nevertheless, being a good judge of man's character, had deemed Frastos as an upright, courageous and a loyal subordinate, yet his death obviously mattered so little to Zunrogo and Tizan. 

“What kind of hardhearted monsters are you?”  Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) stole a discreet, contemptuous look at them both.

Zunrogo grinned coolly and looked away as if he’d just then read Fradel’s mind.

                                                                             ~

 

(END OF SECTION 25)                                                                 

 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 16

It had been some time since Prince Nevetsecnuac and Alec leading their mounts, had passed through that harrowing subterranean tunnel, thankfully unscathed. Even now, Alec shuddered at the mere thought of it. He had expected it to be less arduous the second time around; in contrast, the capricious horrific incidents and the ensued wearing experience, one in particular, to date had left Alec terribly traumatized and infinitely (markedly) on edge.

  Maddeningly, the Prince had sailed through it all, not in the least bit perturbed by the onslaught of catastrophic events, unleashed by none other than Alec’s steed, and the consequential near-death experiences.

They were trekking outside now braving the elements of a different kind; unfortunately, the precarious shortcut route proved as treacherous for it was the depth of winter at these high altitudes. The ingenious contraptions of footwear with good traction, one of Asger’s clever inventions similar to that of Duan’s, had preserved them, man and mount, from more than once sinking into the depths of snow, or sliding over the terrifying precipices.

 As the wind moaned in their ears, the dense, whirling flakes flailing against their faces, their backs bent to the wind, with their horses' hooves sinking a foot deep through the powdered top layer of snow and into the tightly packed underlying layer, Nevetsecnuac and Alec rarely exchanging a word, incessantly pushed on.

Day after day enduring great hardships and untold dangers while persistently being tested by the cruel, trying forces of nature, they had hurried on to cover great distances and descend a good portion of these dicey (risky, hazardous) high altitudes.

"Perhaps we should have delayed our departure a few more months.” Alec grumbled in a barely audible voice, knowing full well that was not an option.

Nevetsecnuac shook his head and tacitly ejected, “This weather will persist until mid-summer." 

Forcing a smile, Alec nodded and continued to blindly advance into the wall of dancing flakes.  Trailing behind Nevetsecnuac, just as he had once done with Duan, despite his stamina and layers of fur, his body, his limbs yet again became benumbed with ceaseless exertion and cold; he slapped and rubbed his limbs for warmth and pursed his lips to restrain his groans and curses. In an attempt to divert his attention away from the persistent pain Alec focused instead on gauging the extent of Nevetsecnuac’ strength and stamina that spared the prince this torment; as it were, the discovery of few surprising elements earlier on, had persuaded Alec to amend (and postpone) his original intent.

After a grueling month Alec had lost all track of time, with days and nights and ceaseless drudgery of this trek intermingling with the terror of being stalked by ravenous wolves or sporadically attacked by voracious predatory beasts, all blending into one. Competent as he was, being outside of his element, he would have been wasted by the harsh environment or been devoured long ago by the beasts that had persistently, relentlessly dogged (hounded) them. To his chagrin time and again he had been constrained to concede, this certain reliance for his survival, on this very resourceful youth and his feats.

"There is a fierce storm brewing.” Nevetsecnuac stayed his footing just then, (halting,) and after his brief examination of the sky, grunted. “A little while further perhaps then we can stop.” Nevetsecnuac looked at Alec askance (sideways). 

Alec nodded without raising his head. In truth he felt ill at ease, “Was his discomfort that obvious?”

"There is an abandoned cave up ahead in which we can take shelter for the night." 

Under the cloak of white all marks had vanished, meeting Alec's skeptical gaze, Nevetsecnuac grimaced. "Don’t forget, I grew up on these mountains.  As it is we are taking the shortest route possible and should be in the safety of the foothills before long.  Otherwise, it would have taken us until next autumn, to traverse this distance."

Arrogant Alec was inwardly livid, interpreting Nevetsecnuac’s sensible words as disguised mockery, choosing to ignore the actual length of time it had previously taken him and Duan to reach the peaks.

 Latter (prince) might have grown up in these mountains, but it paled next to his grueling combat training   in Capital. Brute force, enduring stamina were only one aspect of the basic requirements; with a certain smugness therefore, Alec dourly pushed forward to advance swiftly. 

That night in the cave, shielded from the elements and warmed by the small fire, they had passed the time in relative comfort and safety.  After ingesting a barely palatable repast Alec, forgoing further exchange and sullenly giving his back to Nevetsecnuac, reclined his head in supposed sleep. Far from it, while his active mind perused through his most viable options; suddenly a fleeting, sardonic (wry) smile dawned on Alec’s lips and soon after he was lost to the world.

 The next morning, Alec seemed more affable towards Nevetsecnuac. What’s more, the remainder of the trek being mindful of Nevetsecnuac’s diffidence and anticipating Nevetsecnuac’s certain misgivings about him, Alec strove to ingratiate himself into Prince’s good graces with his most upright and frank demeanor.  By his consistent sincerity, faithfulness, humility, glib tongue, unfailing generosity, stamina and occasional heroics, by degrees (gradually) he succeeded in winning   Nevetsecnuac over.

 Now an affable travelling companion, on occasion when survival wasn’t paramount, Alec had even regaled Nevetsecnuac with accounts of heroics, adventure and tall tales of intrigue from the capital and far off parts of the Empire, fueling Nevetsecnuac’s imagination with personification and wondrous representations of the quintessence (embodiment of) world he scants knew from books.

 As they conversed to while away the lonely hours of travel, the topic of conversation skimmed over various areas of interest but decidedly rested each time on combat styles and armaments used in battle.

During one such exchange, Alec so as not to be too obvious, declaring his admiration of Lord Asger, tactfully strove to learn the finer points of Lord Asger’s fighting style; assuming that Asger had perfected his skill in martial arts, that of which made him nearly invincible, and had painstakingly passed it on to Nevetsecnuac.  Coveting this rare gift, the ambitious Alec implored Nevetsecnuac to instruct him on the finer points, whenever they took time out to rest.

"It is my life's desire, my duty to my father, to Lord Shonne Gulbrand and to you, my Prince, to be the best I can be, so that when the day comes, I may better assist our cause in battle.", he reasoned.  "For this, you must not begrudge me the benefit of your instruction, your Highness.  I've waited too long, all my life to be exact, for the day of vengeance and justice."  A note of indignation never failed to be infused into these genuine sounding requests.

Already missing his morning   exercises with Asger, Nevetsecnuac eventually acquiesced to Alec's wishes.

The addition of intense martial exercises wedged (jammed) between the grueling duration of trek, made the days and weeks pass more quickly, until finally, they, leaving behind the snowcapped mountains, reached foothills where temperatures were more moderate. 

They rode on extended periods with more ease now, oftentimes spurring their steeds into full gallop and sporadically (occasionally) racing for sport, while covering great distances.  And even though Alec’s horse repeatedly came second in every competition with the spirited (feisty) Fiery Comet, Alec’s amicability, his buoyancy and ardor never faltered.  

On these more temperate grounds, with the more frequent cloud-filled azure skies, warmer temperatures and thawing ground, it all attested to the approaching of spring.  Patches of green or brown appeared here and there on the slopes. Even a few tiny buds could be seen peeking out from the crevices, wedged between the icicles on the rock’s face.

Once, at a brief respite, bending to pick up a frail, purple flower, Alec gave a brief, admiring gaze, took a whiff of its raw fragrance then grounded it mercilessly to a soggy pulp in his hand.  His fingers and palms, steeped in the wild perfume, were stained purple with the flower's blood. With a distant, strange expression Alec hissed incomprehensibly.

Nevetsecnuac could only make out the words, "father", and "the villain must die.” 

With an uneasy feeling Nevetsecnuac’s eyes trailed Alec’s slow progression till he disappeared behind some bushes, presumably to relieve himself. On his return, with a somber countenance Alec set himself across from Nevetsecnuac.

Presently Alec appeared to have something grave on his mind, an urgent plight that was being forcefully constrained; after a dismissive shrug however, he abruptly rose and went to check in on his horse. Always respectful of another’s privacy, Nevetsecnuac chose to overlook these rare vacillating moods of Alec’s, deeming them to be just apprehension and understandable angst and disquiet stemming from impatience of reaching their set destination in time.

Subsequent days, the rocky, uneven ground, the enchanting yet precarious topography with deadly traps, constrained them to once more advance on foot. Neither of them minded this too much, for it also gave them the chance to discuss, compare and to exchange various views. Presently, as the sun's unobstructed rays bathed them in a shimmering, golden light that warmly caressed their faces, sounds of the gurgling of brooks and rivulets of melted snow and ice came from seemingly everywhere, flooding their ears.

 It was a truly spectacular warm morning that would have gladdened the weariest of hearts; but then that afternoon without warning, the rising, gusting winds whipped up the dark clouds overhead.

 The sun now in hasty retreat, the earth became gloomy, and its former gay tunes were drowned by somber whimpers and ominous drums.  There was no room for mercy in the incessant downpour that followed: its thrashing winds and rolling thunder shook all the hills around them. In the shrouding mists and pelting, wind-driven rain, Nevetsecnuac and Alec soaked to the skin, plodded (trod) mechanically, along the muddy, slushy, winding paths.

 Stopping only at night fall at a makeshift shelter, they ate some dried rations, oftentimes slept standing snuggled up to their mount for warmth or slept sitting up backs propped against some rock or tree-trunk, and then at first daylight they resumed their journey. In this way they had ridden out the storm that had lasted on and off, with persistent winds and overcast skies, for several dismal days.

 

                                                                                    ~

 

It was quite some time before the sun’s rays had again graced the earth.  Anew, the hard ground invited Nevetsecnuac and Alec to ride in gallop. By then having reached the emerald, green flat plains, carpeted in flowers, their hearts filled with renewed anticipation, they spurred their horses to cover once more vast distances.  The incessant ride halted only when darkness enveloped the earth. As they were still far removed from the nearest dwelling, they made a camp at the edge of the densely wooded area skirting a good size lake. Finding a suitable spot, sheltered from the full fury of the elements, they tethered the horses, washed up, and then quickly consumed some sustenance.  Drained (exhausted) from the day’s strenuous ride, they propped their weary backs against sturdy trees and under the canopy of the moon and stars with the earth as their mat, they closed their eyes, finally, for that well-earned sleep.

In that dream state, Nevetsecnuac saw himself fetching some more firewood at dawn, which he promptly deposited inside the cabin, then went out to wash up by the creek. His uncle was there already, finishing up.

“You are being too remiss!” At once Stark (Lord Asger) sternly admonished him. “Danger abounds, you must remain at all times, on your guard!”

Suddenly he heard a wild ruckus coming from the stables, as there was an alarm raised by Fiery Comet, stomping and neighing. Dropping everything, in haste both, Svein (Nevetsecnuac) and Stark (Lord Asger) darted towards it to investigate.

At this juncture, Nevetsecnuac was awakened with a start and saw the blade of Alec Therkan poised over him in readiness to strike.  Reacting swiftly, Nevetsecnuac adroitly twisted to one side and the sword with a loud thwack clove the tree trunk instead.  Rolling over, Nevetsecnuac nimbly grabbed his sword just in time to dexterously block Alec's next deadly strike.

"Have you gone mad?” Nevetsecnuac shouted at him in bewilderment and sudden rage.  

Alec, his eyes glinting with murder, derisively jeered through his gritted teeth,

"Don't call me 'Alec'.  The traitor Taok Therkan died childless years ago at his own father's hand." 

 

(END OF SECTION 16)

(NEXT POST- SECTION 17- THE CONCLUSION OF THE ASSASSINS)