11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 23

That same evening Lenny Sukzor’s taciturn (icy) stare, sweeping past his lovely wife Juyin, had focused for an hour over his untouched dinner plate, with his thoughts a million miles away. When Lady Juyin smiled enigmatically and broke the deathly silence with a gentle query, "Perhaps my husband would prefer a different meat, since this one is not to his liking?" Lenny just let out an exasperated breath and again dropped his eyes, his glare pinned to the uneaten meal on his plate, those savory chunks of bloodied, thinly slashed deer meat (he always preferred his meat done rare) in the center of a tastefully arrayed delicacy. Subsequently, there was a flash of anger in those eyes and his mouth creased into a grimace of pain as he reflected on the barbarous atrocities that incessantly, at the behest (command) of the Dark Eunuch, was being committed in those secret chambers of the Imperial Dungeons.  

01- LENNY SUKZOR (BURSTING WITH FURY)

Lenny Sukzor, serving more than one master, had learned some time prior, that Nijel Pinng’s actual master was Ronian Keru. He was the one that had recruited her and then trained her (to be proficient) in both the martial arts and the art of espionage. More importantly, Lenny Sukzor had received report that Ronian Keru from the start had been a secret affiliate of the Wolfbane Brotherhood. His legitimate title and the most recent post being, Magistrate Ronian Keru in Moulon Province, Ronian Keru thereof now acted under the suzerainty of Lord Shouzi Yozdek.  Lenny Sukzor therefore most recently was assigned to, on some trumped-up charge have Nijel Pinng, because of her connections, to be formally arrested and questioned, to reveal what she knew of the disappearance of Ms. Jepipi, the downfall of Lance Diostin and on the present location of the letter itself.

Before this was to happen however, in an unexpected turn of events, the moment Egil Viggoaries had discovered Nijel Pinng’s link to Lord Shouzi Yozdek, she had been most ingeniously abducted by Black Molochs’ elite force of wallcrawlers, to whom no cliff, roof or steep wall posed an obstacle. In the centuries old cells built specially below the ordinary dungeons, Nijel Pinng had then been mercilessly tortured and incessantly (ceaselessly) interrogated until a false confession was wrung out of her.

From the start Lenny Sukzor had suspected her limited intel of the crucial (fundamental) facts. Still, Egil Viggoaries would not listen to reason. What was more, Lenny had been penalized for his opposing view by being forced, after the Dark Eunuch had had his fun with his prey, to commit further ignominies on Nijel Pinng‘s corpse. Though it had sickened Lenny immensely and took all his willpower not to lash out in seething rage at the vile beast directing him, he had nevertheless meekly complied, for there had been too much at stake, not to…He could not, specifically at this point, disobey Egil’s direct command! Besides which, the Dark Eunuch’ (Egil Viggoaries’s) pitiless eyes had been on him the whole time …Looking to detect least human weakness, least flaw (shortcoming, failing). He had to do it! There had been no other way!    

Lenny’s jaw currently clenched, acutely (in merciless detail) re-experiencing all that he had endured and sacrificed these past many months and years, to become one of the Inner Circle of the Brotherhood of the Black Molochs, how could he, at this late stage, despite the oppressive shame upon his soul, sabotage it (throw it all away)?

No amount of reasoning, however, could wash away the stain on his honor (integrity, decency) or ease Lenny’s conscience; and the memory of those latest constrained acts, those haunting atrocities yet again, imperiled (risked) his psyche, threatening to totally unhinge his mind and sanity.

02- LENNY SUKZOR (SOUL IN PERIL)

Lenny’s face once more contorted (tightened) with pain, as his eyes glared with abhorrence (loathing) at the palm of his hands, knowing full well, no amount of caustic cleansing (bleach, disinfectant soap) could ever rid him of the invisible stains of blood and infamy.    

It was little consolation to know that other members of the Inner Circle had been ordered to commit far worse, repulsive acts of barbarisms; moreover, to his dismay Lenny had realized that they had emerged from their experiences with no comparable psychological suffering or torment because they had already surrendered (committed) their souls to devil (demon) and the eternal damnation. One had to be devoid of any human dignity, morality, and compassion, which were the obligatory (requisite) conditions, to subsist (survive) under Egil Viggoaries’s command.

A wave of pure revulsion rippled through his spine as he inwardly queried: Did that akin consequence, of forsaking his humanity, awaited him also? Each time he had been ordered to commit yet another viler act of depravity, his spiritual essence consequently had been diminished and evermore drew closer to oblivion (dark abyss), meanwhile, his self-worth (dignity) had irreparably waned (declined). During each assignment, the hairs on the back of his neck had bristled and his teeth had clenched in raging defiance, yet he had still, akin a docile (tame) dog, obediently accomplished (completed) his task.     

But then, how long would he have lasted in this abhorrent organization if he had challenged those mandatory onuses (duties) and mission? Even so, how much longer could he, with his pseudo sub-human traits, persevere? And how much longer must he endure this Hellish torment? He sighed deeply then dismally shook his head. But he knew he had to brave it and persevere, if only, for the sake of his beloved Country.   

 If this was the fundamental price (sacrifice) he must undergo for their cause, then so be it!

Lenny at this point catching (hearing) his wife Juyin's adroitly worded query, snorted angrily (and impatiently). Oh, why won't she leave well enough alone? Why must she be so persistently inquisitive? Why this mock concern; didn't she already have enough on him for this week's report? Lenny nevertheless inhaled deeply to let the wrath (ire) ease out of him before he answered her in a standoffish and frosty (glacial) manner. But then seeing the deep hurt in her eyes, he relented, regretting his cruelty.     

She too was a victim of her circumstance, much in the same way as he.   

Lenny’s subsequent words were soothing; however, he still pushed his plate away. After what he had been through, he had no stomach for food, any food. What he required more, was to dull his senses. And so, he instead, reached for his wine goblet and quaffed the entire contents of it. As soon as the empty goblet (vessel) hit the table it was refilled at once by his aide, Qunen Yummer. Lenny nodded his approval, then as he drunk his wine, he continued to watch Qunen, discretely, from the corner of his eye.

03 - QUNEN YUMMER (2) JP

 After Qunen’s falling out with the architect, Yazume Koz, Lenny Sukzor had ignored other's protests and kept him on staff, later still he had brought him into his household and allocated challenging tasks to him, which Qunen had fulfilled quite admirably. Serving him (Lenny) sometimes in his offices, Qunen’s ample talents in time had shone and made him an invaluable employee. Increasingly since then, his very presence had become a source of comfort to Lenny. Secretly, Lenny was pleased, that this very night, it had been Qunen who had been reassigned to fulfill the duties of the ailing Steward.  

Lenny Sukzor quietly downed (imbibed) three more cupsful then, his smile tinged with sourness, he offered his wife a trite excuse for his odd behavior in toneless, meticulously pronounced words and then left the dining room with Qunen in tow. He had expected Juyin to return to her suite and do whatever women did in their solitary, free time. Yet she waited with mounting concern outside of his study until Qunen Yummer was dismissed before she approached him again.   

Lenny Sukzor had fallen into deep brooding, yet bravely, with beseeching eyes that professed intense love, Juyin had pressed him with sincere and placating words, to share his concerns about what truly ailed him, enabling her therefore a chance to provide him with wifely solace.

 

04- JUYIN SUKZOR

Why are you being so persistent tonight? Who put you up to this? What is it you are after?  

Lenny Sukzor’s look of contempt had startled her; she blanched as she drew away and, turned her head to hide the tears that started to overflow her red-rimmed eyes. Such hate! She was shaken to the core.  

Lenny Sukzor let out a long breath of exasperation then drew in another of repentance. Rising from his chair he came around the desk to stand behind her and reached out to place a gentle hand on her shoulder. His original intent was to comfort her with one or more placating, affectionate words, in a way of an apology, but his hand instead suddenly usurping control, his fingers gripped tightly and held on with mounting pressure.

"You're hurting me!" Her plaintive cry as she struggled to free herself, brought him back to his senses.  

He released his grip at once then reached out anew to offer a consoling hug. But she burst into tears once more and ran sobbing from the room.   

He knew that he should have gone after her, but he could not move from the spot. He stood woodenly; his feet (glued) rooted to the floor with a look of consternation on his face.  

What if next time, he did another unpredictable thing that would, irrevocably, hurt her? For when he was in this state of mind, he could no longer trust his innate instincts!

After so many hours, pain still smoldered in his chest (heart), as Lenny clenched his fists till his fingers hurt. That image, the wretched condition of Nijel Pinng’s corpse, obstinately would not go away; it still agonized (anguished) him. An involuntary shudder passed through him yet again, as he recalled how the despised Surgeon Lubin had been called in and, at one point when Egil Viggoaries had been engaged in directing the torture more closely, Lenny had (averted his eyes) looked away, then around to see the same shock and horror reflected on every face in the dungeon. One had even dared to exchange a fleeting glance of consternation with him. Fortunately, an urgent summons from His Highness had interrupted Egil Viggoaries sadistic pleasure and released Lenny from further torment (suffering).    

Lenny had never been so relieved, almost elated at being summoned by Zakhertan Yozdek. Normally it was an ordeal shunned by everyone but in this instance, he had greeted this dreaded duty with a grateful heart.   

                                                                                 ~ 

 

Shortly after dusk, after his brief consultation with Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek, Lenny Sukzor had then been instructed (commanded) to post haste report to Senior Grand Secretary Qarzten Caimund, for further instructions. Lenny had hastened there, been politely ushered into the primary office, and given assurances that Senior Grand Secretary, called to an urgent errand, would be there shortly. But after two or three hours of waiting Lenny Sukzor, at present, petulantly (irritably) paced to and for across the room, then returning to his chair, reluctantly helped him-self to a cupful of hot tea to steady his taut nerves.

Lenny sat there appreciative nonetheless, to be in solitude (alone), which had allowed him a repose, to check his emotions and to collect his thoughts. But as he had waited for forty-five minutes more, feeling like hours, for Senior Grand Secretary Qarzten Caimund’s arrival, unexpectedly, his wayward thoughts had again returned to the stark recollection of those gruesome images, those everlasting horrors routinely being committed back in the sub dungeons. This robbed him of any solace or real peace. It was a small consolation but at least this time, seated alone in Qarzten’s office, Lenny had been spared from eye witnessing those (inflicted) atrocities at the hand of that demonic Surgeon Lubin.     

 After a long spell, Lenny Sukzor had abruptly ceased his sipping from the third cup, put it down and disdainfully pushed it aside, for the aftertaste of hot infusion had just then turned acrid in his mouth. He leaned back and pensively closed his eyes, as he was keenly aware that these same perversities would be re-enacted again, night after night, for the Dark Eunuch's amusement and, it was a certainty that, Egil Viggoaries would make sure that next time, he (Lenny) again be present at the evil debacle.    

How long could he persevere, how long before the inevitable breakdown?  

05-LENNY SUKZOR (8)JP

Lenny’s body had stiffened just then with this inner query, and he involuntarily clenched his fists tight until his nails drew blood from his palms. Instantly he checked his emotions however and quickly wiped away all traces of blood. Fortunately, there was no danger of him being disturbed; he had seen the stacks of documents on Qarzten’s assistant’s desk in the next room, he would have his head buried under it all night long.   

No sooner Lenny Sukzor had again leaned his back in the chair however, those same vile images of countless torture victims, as well as Nijel Pinng’s, had once more commenced parading in his mind's eye.   

If only someone in The Black Molochs’ Inner Circle had superior prowess, had enough gumption (guts) and slight degree of insanity to oppose Egil Viggoaries this one time, and denied him his perversity… by swiftly and mercifully ending the wretched victim’s life.   

“Alas, this will never be. Stop fretting over matters you are powerless to alter; instead, redirect your thoughts on the task at hand.”  Lenny Sukzor shook his head with self recrimination.

Suddenly just then however, Lenny Sukzor’s wayward mind turned to another puzzling concern. Earlier on in this week, in private conference with Qarzten Caimund and before Qarzten had been suddenly called away, the minister with a grave face had started to say in muted voice, something about the Dark Eunuch Egil Viggoaries. It was an enigma to Lenny, why Quarzten had broached the subject with him at all in that cryptic, mysterious way (fashion); unfortunately, other matters taking precedence, that query had never been resolved.   

There was slight disturbance in the hallway; then Lenny Sukzor long at last heard the unmistakable sound of Qarzten Caimund’s arrival. He at once bolted (rose) to his feet and now perfectly composed, waited for Qarzten to enter the room.   

Irksomely however, Qarzten Caimund did not and furthermore, for a lengthy period in an undecipherable low voice had conversed with his assistant in the outer room (outer foyer), at the end of which, he then had instructed his competent aid to, “on his way out, inform the guards that he was not to be, under any circumstances, disturbed.”     

Short while later, the doorknob finally turned and the illustrious Qarzten Caimund, with a pleasant smile on his lips, entered his primary office. Closing the door quietly behind him, the Senior Grand Secretary indicated for Minister Lenny Sukzor to again take a seat then, walking across the room in bold strides, seated himself comfortably across from and facing Lenny Sukzor. He offered his sincerest apologies for the (unavoidable) delay then got straight down to business.     

"You have been selected by His Majesty to undertake a covert assignment of utmost importance in Subain Province. You will depart tomorrow morning at dawn, alone and without the customary panel of inquiry since this mission is an investigation only; to verify or dispute the extent of the suspected corruption in that province.” As Qarzten had said this, he’d quickly and unceremoniously, had helped himself to some not so hot tea to alleviate the sudden parch sensation in his throat, and then added, “You were chosen because you are relatively unknown at outside Channing’s bureaucratic circles, and you will not be recognized by the Provincial Officials you are probing." Qarzten Caimund then proceeded to go over the instructions for this perilous assignment, item by item, since Lenny Sukzor’s findings would then determine the measures to be taken. Pending Lenny Sukzor’s report, if the professed allegations are substantiated, Qarzten Caimund with Lenny Sukzor acting as his assistant would then be expediently dispatched on a punitive campaign to, swiftly and effectively with the help of reserve forces stationed in the adjacent province, rectify/resolve the volatile situation at Subain Province.      

Lenny quietly nodded, knowing Qarzten was the most competent minister to handle this grievous matter, for Qarzten was fearless, resourceful, and ruthless if needs be, malleable and could achieve the installation of a stable government (through his rigorous discipline and rigid regulations, stricter measures, and precedents all,) within the bounds of law and in the specified time.    

It was in truth, Lenny Sukzor’s aptitudes that were being tested (on trial) here; Qarzten was to oversee the operations while in due course, on this seemingly less significant assignment, teach Lenny the ropes, the requisite acumen and edification, before being dispatched to undertake more crucial mission of, permanently resolving the dire menace (threat, hazard) from the impenetrable, strong Guangweit Nation.     

There will be Hell to pay then, for Zakhertan Yozdek wanted nothing less than total satisfaction. Qarzten Caimund meanwhile had summarily mused on this factor, and then quickly went on to appraise Lenny at length of the recently uncovered developments in Subain Province:

He did not need to tell Lenny Sukzor the economic and strategic importance of the province, since this was known to every learned person in Wenjenkun. Subain Province, because of its low-lying terrain next to the warm sea, was responsible for eighty percent of the national salt production and it was the overseas trade in salt that made the capital, Heisen, the third largest, import/export seaport in the country. Only few ministers however, including Lenny, had been privy to the information that, the same estuaries, and marshes of Kesuo and Jefor Prefectures which allowed for the bountiful salt production were also, an ideal hiding places for an extensive number of pirates. These pirates had, for a span of time, flourished by shrewdly avoiding the government monopoly on transport of salt.

The illicit salt smuggling had brazenly been supplemented last little while by an increasing number of raids on cargo vessels and fishing boats traveling through the provincial waters. This allegedly thriving smuggling business up until now had gone unchecked, in fact perpetuated/fostered, under the covert protection racket of the corrupt local government/customs officers which had admittedly posed a serious drain on the Central Governments’ revenues. This entire matter, till recently that is, had been under the (jurisdiction) authority of Prime Minister’s offices, (which had also incorporated the Finance   Ministerial offices). Sovereign Zakhertan had only recently, covertly engaged Qarzten Caimund to look in on this matter. A thorough analysis of the accounting books had hence disclosed the irregularity- that the extent of the production reported to the Capital had been only a mere fraction/one third in measure. The rest had (purportedly) gone to making up the deficit in defense caused by the still more serious a problem in that province: the Pirates!

 

06-  SEA FARING MIGHTY WARRIORS - PIRATES (5) jp

 

In all fairness, a while back a detailed report from the provincial government had been submitted to the Prime Minister’s offices asking special aid, to deal with the growing problem of piracy in that region that had targeted cargo ships, salt transport vessels and fishing boats. What was more, it was noted that as the city expanded the plundering of cargo ships had increasingly been an earnest consideration; but as this region steadily suffered the incursions from these indigenous pirates, even the allocated funds for the defence of the coastline had become, at best, insufficient. 

Additionally on a flawed, unsound decision, the military commands (with adequate units) that had been set up at strategic points of Ziek, Roxi, Celek, Youez and Kigen, had not been expanded despite the increased number of engagements, becoming hence, quite deficient in both workforce and armament.     

The Central Government meanwhile had grown impatient and had been increasingly critical of the lack of progress report against the buccaneers, whose attacks had grown ever more frequent.     

 

 

 

(END OF SECTION 23)

 

 

                                                                                               ~ 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 22

01- MOUNTED ZUNROGO TUGO  LEAVING THE INN BEHIND

After leaving the Inn area, at first the road (thoroughfare) they journeyed on, thronged with countless travelers from all diverse ethnic and economic backgrounds, coming and going, bearing their goods and materials to and from the outlying provinces of the Empire.  The friendly banter of the merchants mingled with the creak of wheels and clapping of the horse's hooves as they pulled the buggies, carriages and loaded carts towards the Capital.

After quarter of a day’s ride, the ongoing stream gradually thinned out as the main road branched out onto many side roads, leading in all directions to the outlying market towns and farming villages (rural communities) that flanked the thoroughfare as it cut through the vast, fertile plain that provided this section of the province with much of its fresh forage (fodder, foodstuff).

Later, these arteries would again converge, Zunrogo informed Fradel, to swell the main highway which the company was on, as the produce of the region was transported to the insatiable consumers in Channing.

“The travelers would then be intermixed, with idle, vacationing degenerate gentry on pleasure excursions, covert, religious zealots seeking absolution, profligate (wasteful) scholars supposedly there for indulging in nature’s beauty and, countless dissolute court officials with varied political rank, all of them, in desperate need of respite and regeneration… all, with their hidden perverse agendas looking to escape their tedium and discharge their exacerbated angst!” Zunrogo stole Fradel a sly glance and grimaced sourly.

02- FRADEL (NEVETSECNUAC) AS IMPERIAL GUARD  JP 11

“What, no reaction… What does it take to ruffle those pristine feathers of yours?”

“As I was saying,” Zunrogo dispassionately continued. “These renowned, panoramic topography (scenery), as well, magnificent falls, hot springs, naturally fostered countless, leisure, recreational facilities. They had mushroomed, (built up) within just last decade, to perpetuate more currency, funds needed for military expeditions and more. Strangely enough, from these supposed places of refuge…all the while, the secretly sanctioned criminal elements…”

"Look, Captain!  Look!" The urgency in Frastos' voice and his pointing finger suddenly just then drew their attention to the far distant spot, where the Inn had been.  All heads turned to see the coiling, black smoke billowing up and darkening the sky.  Briac's face fell as a cold shudder passed through him.

"I wonder how it got started."  The adolescent boy's naive query drew the other traveler’s attention.

"Keep on walking; it’s none of our business!" The stern voice of an elderly man scolded the youth as he passed a fearful eye over the surrounding sea of curious faces.

Some had put their heads together to whisper then, eyes glued to the fire, shook their heads in apprehension and dismay.  Others showed fleeting signs of outrage or anger before a habitual resignation registered on their features.

 In all the spectators’ pupils (eyes) registered the akin caution, as the common sense of the old man's words rang true.  None of them could afford to get involved in the messy investigation, the ugly conspiracy or the legal entanglements that would certainly ensue.

Subsequently ditching their curiosity, with lowered heads, the majority hastened (picked up) their pace, whipping up their horses and steering their carts ahead, as most were anxious to spread as much distance as possible between themselves and the disaster.

The unfortunate few grave-faced travelers, who were headed towards the fire, purposefully dawdled, dug in their heels, and malingered to reduce their speed.

03- FRADEL RURIK KORVALD (NEVETSECNUAC ) GAZES FURIOUSLY AT THE CAPTAIN JP 38

Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) threw a furious look at Captain Zunrogo, with clear implication (as if to say), “I know you are behind this catastrophe.”

 Zunrogo plainly ignored this, however, and finding the varied responses of the travelers rather, most amusing, grinned sadistically and cruelly. Moreover, not wishing for another unnecessary confrontation with this upstart, righteous and irate scholar, deliberately ignored Fradel's continued, cold, admonishing glare, and just spurred his horse on ahead.

They traveled at this faster pace until dusk. Briac was somewhat comforted to be riding amid a protective semicircle; flanked by Frastos and Fradel Rurik Korvald on either side, while the captain rode in the lead.  He knew that, if he was hemmed in on all three sides and there were other travelers sharing the road, there would be a serious deterrent to any would be assassination attempt.  He coolly reminded himself that he would be a far easier target at any of the Inns they might be staying at, or if he strayed from the group. 

Just as Briac’s taut nerves were starting to loosen, a single arrow, of unknown origin, whistled through the air, grazed Frastos’'s ear, and lodged itself in Briac's high scholar's cap.

"What in the world?  Oh no!"  In his fright, drenched in sudden sweat, Briac nearly fell from his horse.  Only a quick reaction by Fradel Rurik Korvald steadied him in the saddle again.

Shaking like a leaf, he did not thank Fradel but cursed his dire predicament and considered how he could best break free of what seemed now to be a tight cordon of death trap and make good his escape. Quickly Briac decided on the best recourse left open to him and he purposefully reared the mare.  His hand next, grasped at the wig to tear it from his head (scalp) and same time his mouth opened wide to shout out loud his vehement denial and declaration: that he was but an imposter and not the cursed Fradel Rurik Korvald.  His eye just then however, catching (noticing) the captain's ephemeral, lethal, hard glare, Briac’s hand (on the wig), as well the words at the tip of his tongue, abruptly stayed (froze, came to a dead stop).

Zunrogo, obviously disappointed, grimaced wryly and sheathed his sword. He then turned and looked away in the far direction; where which just then, the solitary figure of Tizan had appeared from behind a rising hilltop and began swiftly descending towards them.

“So, this was your handy work.” Briac inwardly scoffed. “You couldn’t resist, yet again, to taunt me.”

The captain was more concerned how Tizan had managed to catch up to them so quickly and, meeting Tizan halfway, at once interrogated the Lieutenant.

"I took the short cut through Yennicroc pass." Tizan smirked (grinned) and shrugged his shoulders.

04- TZAN JP

Considering the nature of the treacherous terrain, the captain was impressed and nodded his approval.  "Still, I see you are none the worst, for wear."

Still grinning, Tizan threw a scornful look at Briac.  "You mistake me again, sir, for his likes."  His eyes filled with loathing as he indicated the pale impostor (Briac) with his chin.

Tizan’s words struck a raw nerve in Briac, and it was only with great difficulty that he forced some constraint on his seething rage. Gritting his teeth, Briac pulled out (grasped) the arrow that had lodged firmly in scholar’s cap, snapped it in two and disdainfully threw it to the ground.

The empty threat implicit in Briac's action greatly amused Tizan, who threw his head back and laughed uproariously.  Briac was about to say something more provocative to infuriate Tizan when Zunrogo interceded.

"Tizan, you and Fradel Rurik Korvald have not been properly introduced.  May I introduce you, sir, to my Lieutenant, Tizan Lout."

"We have already met." Fradel grimaced, returning Tizan's polite nod.

"Why, of course you have," the captain smiled, recalling the brief episode back at the Inn, when Fradel Rurik Korvald had raised difficulties with his first accommodation (alloted, assigned room).

As they talked, Tizan's eloquent tongue and pseudo fine mannerisms, affected solely for the sake of impressing the captain, grated on Briac's nerves.

Scoffing at this sycophantic (fawning) spectacle, he rode the mare on ahead, temporarily forgetting the constant danger to him.  When the Captain and Tizan took the lead, he fell back to sulk in the center of the group once again.

"Any unforeseen problems," Zunrogo suddenly questioned Tizan.

"None, Captain…As always none." Tizan answered smartly then, unhindered by the least shred of conscience, looked away, smiling smugly. Tizan had no way of knowing of course that he had been properly duped, as his malign plans were aptly undermined by the intrepid Kozur affiliates who had a (monopoly) personal stake in that region.

                                                                                    ~

After a restful night's stay at a roadside Inn, Briac awoke at cock's crow to another nasty shock.  Finding the scalp to be uncomfortably hot, he had taken it off before retiring and laid it on the night table, yet now it rested squarely atop his head once more.  Worse still, when he went to remove it to wash his face and scalp, for it itched terribly; he discovered that it was permanently fastened somehow to his own skin.

"What's wrong?" Frastos, who had just finished washing his own face and dressed already, noting the frustrated anger and dismay on Briac's face, asked.

05-FRASTOS - JP 17

"It won't come off.  It won't budge."  Briac tugged once more at the hair.

"Stop fooling around," Frastos came over and brusquely yanked the wig not expecting to find any resistance.

"Aiyhhh," Briac screamed in pain.  "What are you trying to do, scalp me?"

"You mean it’s for real?  That's impossible!"  Frastos' words were barely spoken when Tizan knocked and immediately stepped in.

"What?  You two aren't dressed yet?  You'll have to forfeit your breakfast then.  The captain wants both of you downstairs, immediately.  We're ready to leave.  Now!" he bellowed at them and turned to go.

Briac nimbly rushed to block his way.  "Are you responsible for this?" he pointed to the wig.

"What about it?" Tizan glared.  "It’s done in accordance with the captain's orders.  Do you want to make something of it?"

Briac inwardly dismayed, backed away from the challenge.  "Why?" A complaintive whimper escaped his lips, before he could stop it.

"You need to ask?" Tizan scoffed, his cold eyes pinned on Briac.  "He saw the stunt you almost pulled when my arrow pierced your cap.  Well, it’s to prevent you from repeating it again, and to keep you from disobeying orders.  Count yourself lucky you were spared from harsher reprimand.  I would not have been so lenient if I had been in charge."

“Well, thank Heaven you're not.” Frastos inwardly scoffed.

Frastos blanched and lowered his head, catching the hostile glower from Tizan (as if latter had read his thought), just as the lieutenant was exiting the room.

"Don't worry," Tizan ejected coldly, as he rushed his steps down the hallway, "the adhesive will wear off in a month or so."  He grinned venomously as he turned and headed down the stairs.  "That is, if you live that long."

 

                                                                                   ~

 

When the group stayed at an Inn on the outskirts of town for the night, Briac, in his (masquerading) pseudo role of a scholar found, the special treatment by the manager and help that his new status begets, very much to his liking.  Moreover, he was now a magnet to delightful ladies and gentry and taking advantage of this boon, shamelessly indulged in heavy drinking and licentious behavior long after Tizan, Fradel Rurik Korvald and Zunrogo had retired to their respective rooms.

When eventually Briac took his favorite up to their room, Frastos as his assigned bodyguard, with his back to them, was forced to be privy to all Briac’s passionate moaning and grunts, as he pawed her; hence, this adding smoldering jealousy to Frastos’s mounting list of resentments. But as the night progressed, despite his conscientious effort of vigilance (alertness), the hard days ride taking its toll, Frastos’s eyelids dropped, and he very nearly drifted off to sleep.

The beauty Briac was still shamelessly fondling chose this precise moment, to whisper a suggestion into his ear.  Finding this most agreeable, Briac rose to his feet and abruptly announced to Frastos, shocking him into full wakefulness (alertness), that he would retire now and that, temporarily, the guard's services would not be needed.

This subtly instructed Frastos, “to give him (Briac) a few hours ‘leeway to complete his amorous business, before Frastos returned to their shared room.”

“Why should I?”  Frastos was of half a mind to make things difficult for the impostor scholar but, on second thought relenting, shrugged his shoulders and rose.

His hand was about to turn the nob of the door, when, "What audacity!" he, with his back to them, heard her exclaim indignantly in her amorous voice.  "He should be reprimanded, if not punished, for such rudeness."

06- BEAUTY SEDUCING  BRIAC

Frastos could only guess at the lies Briac whispered behind him, as the latter (Briac) quietly sipped his drink.  In fact, Frastos was hoping for the slightest provocation, having had enough, to put Briac in his proper place.

Halting his grasp, “Go on, I dare you to reprimand me!” he hissed and then half turning his head, he glared at Briac.

He waited but since no such castigation (rebuke) happened; disappointed, he simply shook his head and quickly darted outside.

He did not stray too far from the door, musing, “Where am I supposed to go in this ungodly hour?”

"Oh, how sweet, how tolerant you are," he heard the woman's beguiling voice inside the room say, instead, as it drifted to pleasurable chuckles and moans (groan). 

"Oh, can't you be patient?" the muted whining came next, and the subsequent giggling.  "Oh, you are way too shameless!"

Then he heard Briac, with his heavy footing walking up to fasten the lock on the door.

“You got to be kidding me.” Frastos moaned.

"Oh, you mustn't do that.  Please leave the door unlocked."  The seductive intonation of her voice lured Briac into complying with her wishes. Or maybe Briac thought better of it, mindful of the possible repercussions from the captain, for disobeying orders.

“What a complete, utter fool you are.” Frastos shook his head with scorn. Totally disgusted at the outside, he quickened his steps to walk away and to spread as much distance as he could between him and this contemptible moron.

 Briac, on the inside, had waited and listened by the door till he was assured that Frastos, in quick succession, had descended those steps at the end of the hallway.

“He’s finally gone.” He turned, only to find her reclining provocatively on his bed, beckoning him to come into her embrace.

Grinning from ear to ear, like a hungry beast about to pounce on his prey, Briac rushed across the room and flung his body clumsily atop her, only to grasp the pillow instead as she agilely shifted to the other side.

 His loins were on fire.  "Come to me, my sweet dove.  I promise to be gentle." he purred as he leaned forward to hold her in a tight, passionate embrace.

"Is that any way for a gentleman to behave?  Oh, you are so strong you take my breath away."  She pushed him away coyly to fall back seductively among the heap of embroidered, plush cushions.

A log splitting in the fire, momentarily took his attention away.  He turned back to gently admonish her, "You mustn't toy with my affections."

07 - BEAUTIY (OR THE ASSASSIN)

The words, however, simply froze on his lips and his eyes widened with sudden fear.  In that scant lighting, in her hand, a dagger’s blade had flashed (catching the light of the lit candles) and the next instant, she launched it targeting his heart with murderous intent.

He was a seasoned soldier so at lightning speed he first swerved to avoid her deadly strike then lurched forward, his hand intending to grasp her wrist, to gain control of the dagger. Nevertheless, escaping his grasp, she, with one fluid motion jumped off the bed and then turned to, unafraid, squarely, still seductively, gaze at him.

“Was she merely toying with me?” Briac queried inwardly, as he noted the clear absence of malice and no implicit threat in those crystal, clear blue eyes of hers.

She, with unreadable emotion, meanwhile, unwarily gazed at him for a spell, seemingly assessing his next move, then simply let the dagger drop to the floor; after which, nimble as a cat, darted out the door.

 

(END OF SECTION 22)                                                                                                   ~

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 31

On the appointed day at cockcrow the quiet city streets were rocked by the marching of armed guards, some decked out in full armor as though going into battle, and the rumbling, creaking crunch of the heavy iron mobile cage, hauled by two sturdy workhorses.  Heading up this procession was the mounted Hecun.

01- PRIONER TRANSPORT IN IRON CAGE

 The few vendors who opened up shop early rubbed their sleepy eyes and complained then craned their necks and sharpened their stares with interest when they awakened to the procession's significance.

 The barking of a stray dog accompanied the guards until a cast-off broom whisk landed on its muzzle and sent the beast scurrying off with sharp yelps.

 Leaving the gates of Denor City and the stir they had created behind, the long train forked off from the major highway and continued its snaking route through the undulating hills and valleys surrounding the city.  Hecun drove his men relentlessly, hastening them towards their destination, fearful that the prisoner would not survive a long ordeal.

The summer season was almost at an end and the gusts of easterly winds often arose out of nowhere to thrash the faces of the horsemen as the mounting, dark clouds sailed on continuously like an endless armada of war across the gloomy sky, driving the sun away into hibernation.

For the next two days the torrential rains soaked them to the bone as the uneven, slippery mud paths compounded the difficulties of this already arduous journey.  Any idea Hecun had of a swift advance was soon discarded.  The flat lands were turned into seascapes and in the bare hills the greatest danger was from sudden mud slides, which could bring half the hillside down onto the road in seconds.  Hecun's party apprehensively passed through this dangerous zone, too, until the rain tapered off to a light drizzle.

Looking out across the long, sodden grasses that flanked their path laid low by the weight of the water on their leaves then turning his gaze skyward to the menacing, mounting clouds roiling in the gray sky, threatening to begin the deluge anew, the Head Bailiff Hecun sighed repeatedly.

“This is possibly the worst season to undertake this journey,” He grumbled. “Heat on one hand, torrential rains on the other.” 

His dismal thoughts turned to the prisoner, locked up in the cage, it only opened a small hole in the upper left side which allowed food and water to be dropped in.  Shrugging his shoulders dispassionately, he mused, “He's the only one shielded from this blasted rain, but at what cost?  Confined in that restrictive, suffocating space, rotting in his piss and excrement…  Thankfully, I’m not that wretch.”

He stretched his limbs in appreciation. “That stupid Temple…  That trespassing charge is unwarranted after all this time.  Why not petition His Royal Highness to have that unjust law rescinded or amended?  Or just has the cursed place leveled or scorched to the ground so that it can't entrap or injure anyone else?  How many more lives will be wasted needlessly because of it?”

Hecun inhaled deep. At least the rain had finally stopped. As he rode on, his thoughts once more reverted to prior concern.

“How many times have I sounded out my reasoning to the Prefect… time after time without success?  He just turned a deaf ear to me.  It's all too convenient for him, isn't it, to keep things just the way they are?  After all, if he were to heed my suggestion, he would be hard pressed to fabricate another trap to rid himself of his enemies or other unwanted pests so conveniently.  I was a fool to even waste my breath.  Things never change.  It’s the same everywhere.  I really should try to mend my ways and still my tongue; I should be more like Mouro, so as to avert future disasters. Would it work if I utilized akin underhanded means as Mouro? I wonder though, how many more innocent souls like this scholar will be ensnared in future; how can I idly stand by and do nothing about it? Would my conscience (ethics) let me? “

But then Head Bailiff Hecun suddenly became aware of disturbance at the rear of the column.  Wheeling his horse round, he shouted, "What's all the commotion about back there?  And why aren’t you moving?"

"Look, sir.  Look!"  One of the panic-stricken guards pointed left to the menacing, fearsome mounted warrior figure at the hilltop.

Turning his head, Hecun looked up at the indicated spot.  His soul nearly took flight.  This was the sight he most dreaded seeing.  Mounted atop a black coal horse, standing like a crown on the crest of the hill, was the majestic, formidable figure of Zonar!

Swallowing his fright, Hecun dispensed the orders at once for the men to surround the prisoner's cage, draw their swords in readiness of a strike, and make haste to the more defensible ground to the right.

"Remember men, despite his formidable appearance, he's only flesh and blood.  He can be bested, just like any other mortal man." Hecun shouted his encouragement along the way.

"He's also pitted against two hundred of us.  We'll make him taste a bitter defeat if he dares to attack us.  We'll show him what we're made of!"

These men (guards) were all hand-picked by Hecun and Mouro to ensure the success of this assignment.  All were seasoned warriors, capable of either mounting a strong, sustained attack or fighting a pitched defense with equal ease.

02-  ZONAR

Irrespective of this, however, the foe facing them now looked so menacing, struck such awe into their hearts that, as they assumed their defensive positions and waited for the dreaded confrontation, many once proud warriors entertained thoughts of dropping their arms and fleeing (running off) to safety, but all knew that at the first sign of desertion they would be cut down by Hecun or by one of their own comrades.  Even if they succeeded in their cowardly flight, they would be wanted men forever forsaking their homes and host of loved ones, the parents, wives, brothers, sisters and children who depended on them.

“What's he waiting for?” Hecun nervously tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword when the anticipated rush of the assassin still did not come.

“What’s his game?  Is he waiting for night to fall?  It may well be his tactic to wage war on our nerves first.  It would therefore be to our advantage to combat him now, while the morale of the men is still high.”  With this in mind Hecun, loudly reviled Zonar from his safe distance, challenging him, trying to draw him into a fight; meanwhile, emboldened by Zonar's lack of response, his men also joined in with added verbal abuse and taunts.

 “What, still no response?”  Though he had been tempted, Hecun knew enough not to divide his force and initiate the offensive when the opponent held the high ground. Instead, Hecun quickly dispatched four of his archers, armored with overlapping plates of laminated bronze which gave maximum protection and freedom of movement, to (in roundabout way) get closer to Zonar and let loose a volley.

The remaining men watched in horror as, the arrows loosed straight at his chest, Zonar swept his hand in front of him with lightning speed, caught the arrows and, using no bow, launched them back full force through the armor and into the hearts of the hapless archers.  As his black steed reared up, Zonar let loose an earth-shaking, ear-splitting laughter.  This made the hair on the back of all the guards’ necks stand up as their blood simultaneously froze in their veins.

The next moment, in an unexpected move, however, Zonar had wheeled his horse round and in the blink of an eye disappeared from view.

Far from being relieved, every man in the command had realized in that instant that they would not stand a prayer of a chance in any direct encounter with this demon.  And that they were, for the time being safe, so long as Zonar was only toying with them.

In the following days and nights, the guards kept up with their constant vigilance (did not dare drop their guard for one second) and in securing the prisoner; consequently, they were robbed of least respite and peace of mind.  On (perpetual) assiduous alert, every guard with taut nerves constantly panned the surrounding hills, the vast fields and valleys with fear filled eyes, anticipating and dreading the imminent mortal encounter with Zonar.

A few of the more disgruntled were in the process of conspiring to mutiny, to murder Hecun and turn the prisoner over without the least resistance, when Zonar again suddenly (appeared) manifested but after a spell, just as quickly disappeared. 

 

                                                                                      ~

 

As Hecun's guards had remained on high alert pending a surprising dire onslaught from Zonar, Micen Do back in the comfort of his study, had just settled down to, forsaking the tea, enjoying some delectable salty tidbits on the tray. His mind totally at ease, Micen remained quite certain that he had, with his brilliant ploy, outmaneuvered the grizzly-haired demon.

 It was the middle of the afternoon on an unusually hot day and Micen, now feeling parched, just put aside a document he had been studying, looked up and was about to send for some cool refreshments when, “What the devil?”

 In a chair at the far corner of the room, casually seated and reading from an ancient scroll, sat Zonar; this sight instantly, therefore, froze the subsequent words on Micen's tongue.

Though Micen was mesmerized by fright at first, the casual, indifferent attitude of the assassin, completely immersed in the ancient literature, put the Prefect somewhat termporarily at ease.  He was not reconciled to dying and eyed the door, contemplating which course would be faster, calling for help from the five guards posted outside or making a dash for the door.

03- ZONAR KUNTZU

Micen’s blood turned to ice in his veins when just then Zonar looked up, and their eyes met.  Next instant, before Mucen could utter a single sound, he was cleaved clean through from top to bottom… For Zonar's gleaming sword had cut him into two perfect halves.

As Micen's right half watched with its waning eye, the left side collapsed onto the desk, dispersing a pile of documents.  Zonar instantly recognized Fradel Rurik Korvald's actual identity papers and summons, fallen three-quarters of the way out of a parchment envelope and, reaching for it, disappeared in the last beat of Micen's heart.

The secretary, coming into the room minutes later with some documents, made the grisly discovery and so alerted the household.  The news of Micen's assassination spread like wildfire throughout Denor City and the entire prefecture and all citizens rushed indoors, apprehensive about their own mortality.

 

                                                                                    ~

 

After an arduous, apprehensive trek, Hecun and his guard regiment at long last escorted the prisoner to the border crossing at Danlo Pass.  The disgruntled, weary group finally relaxed their vigil only after they had confirmed, from the border guards, that no person matching Zonar's name or description had preceded them across the border.  Accordingly, they relayed their warnings to the border patrol to be on the alert for such dangerous assassin, and to arrest or apprehend him on sight, if they were capable of doing so.

"You're the second group in five days that has made in depth inquiries after such a person." the border guards professed, scratching their heads.  "However, the others said nothing about him being a wanted criminal."

When Hecun ascertained that they were referring to Mouro's group, he was concurrently, both pleased and offended. He spoke thoughtfully to the sergeant Tubak that was riding alongside him. “It's not like Mouro to be so remiss.  Other, more serious concerns must have preoccupied his mind though, for the life of me, I cannot imagine what they could be.  He never disclosed to me the nature of his urgent task, not really.  But it’s just like him to be this evasive.  Now I think of it, those last two or three days he'd seemed rather more irritable than usual.”

Hecun had abruptly fallen silent at this moment, as he inwardly mused: “True, we've been good friends for a long time now, and I am fond of him.  Still, I cannot boast that I’ve fully understood him.  I know no more about him now than I did when I first met him.  When he was in such desperate straits I did set him on the straight course, welcomed him to my home, and even helped him get that job.  I remember how I watched in amazement as he, always an apt student, fully subdued all opposition and managed to ingratiate himself in the good graces of the Governor and Micen.  He even managed to pull off something I've never been able to do and curry favor with that stand-offish, condescending Luko clan.”

With a twinge of jealousy in his heart, Hecun now disdainfully further recalled how Mouro's ambitious undertakings had paid off.  Within a year's time Mouro, despite his youth and considerable inexperience, had taken advantage of his superior martial abilities, if one believed the official explanation, to bypass Hecun and win the promotion meant for (the Head Bailiff) him.

Annoyed only at first, Hecun, nevertheless, soon realized that it would be more to his advantage to remain on good terms with his new superior, than to become his adversary.

Besides, Hecun had found it awfully hard to refute Mouro's congenial qualities and his gracious side.  He certainly could not deny that Mouro had also reciprocated his previous kindness in full, and countless times had bailed him out of trouble with Micen. 

Mouro had also filled another desperate void in Hecun's life by fitting snugly into the shoes of the bailiff's deceased younger brother.  Hecun now recalled fondly also how, when they were alone, Mouro had respected and treated Hecun as the elder brother, but the closeness had remained chiefly one-sided. Not being the type to bear his soul to anyone, Mouro had constantly guarded his privacy and history even from him (Hecun), letting it be known only that he was born a native of Tenzo Province.

"Five days, eh, this is good."  Hecun, well across the border, was in better spirits and gloated to his subordinate (sergeant) Tubak.  "Why, that means that, despite all the setbacks we've suffered, we've still made pretty good time, especially considering that they're riding swift horses on a straight highway, and I'm pretty certain that they encountered no bandits like we did, or that assassin, Zonar.  Mouro would not have missed a chance to boast of it to those border guards."

"Yes, sir…  We were rather fortunate that he chose not to engage us after that first sortie.  Even so," the sergeant dismally hung his head, "the threat of confronting him again was still enough to drive many good men to contemplating desertion... pity."

"Are you blatantly aligning your sympathies with those cowards?  Their desertion seriously undermined our capacity to confront that gangster Lurin and his lawless bunch!" Hecun stormed.  "Perhaps it was your intention to desert as well?"

04- SERGEANT TUBAK

"Sir ...  I'd never ever considered such a thing!" the sergeant contested vehemently.  "Forgive my audacity for speaking as I did just then.  My thoughts were of Yozder, he was ordinarily a good sort.  Not too long ago he lost his wife in a tragedy.  Now his five young children, the oldest is only nine, are left without any means of support, and only Yozder's invalid aunt to care for them.  I could not help grieving for what will become of them now."  He hung his head, but his sidelong glance at Hecun framed his unspoken question, couldn’t you have, just this once, bent the rules just a little?  Why did they all have to perish?

Hecun fumed, "I'm not such a heartless man as you make me out to be, sergeant, but rules are rules.  The deserters knew full well what they were getting themselves into.  They got nothing more nor less than, what they deserved.”

“Remember, because of them we were all put at risk.  How can I expect strict obedience in the future from the rest if I showed leniency or, worse, made an exception?  Regulations in militia must be strictly adhered to, so that men can feel secure.  Your grievance against me is totally unfounded, sergeant, and I counsel you to think hard before airing your thoughts to me again."  After this rebuke, Hecun angrily spurred his horse toward the iron cage, ignoring his subordinate's gobbed (spat, expelled) apologies.

“That's more than I can say for this poor wretch.  Despite his innocence, he's been ensnared in an unjust law and is now being made to suffer for it.” Hecun grumbled to himself.

 His thoughts then turned to more immediate concerns, “Why hadn’t Zonar struck and vanquished them when he had them at his mercy?  Why had those bandits attacked just after they were through Danlo Pass?”

Hecun recalled presently what he had heard distinctly some of the gang members had said, as they attempted to seize (snatch) the iron cage.

 “But what on earth made them think that we were carrying gold in the cage, instead of a criminal?”

 

Now that they were inside Tenzo Province the general consensus was that the worst had been left behind them, nevertheless Hecun opted for caution and closely followed the course Mouro had charted out for him.

Their subsequent laborious advance took them through difficult terrain, over uneven paths that were often carpeted in vegetation that had withered in the dry heat and choked with debris blown in by the driving gusts of wind.  Beneath their concealment lay a multitude of dangers for horses and riders alike.

Rounding yet another sharp turn, Hecun shielded his eyes and gazed questioningly over the sharp precipice that loomed just ahead.  To his dismay the distant canyon, shrouded in twilight, disclosed no signs of human habitation.

“Was it conceivable that Mouro had miscalculated the details of the supposed settlement nestled in this valley's forest? Their water rations had been getting dangerously low in this high, arid region and there was no reprieve in sight. “Hecun, grimly hence, anticipated even more desertions among his disgruntled guards.

Taking out Mouro's map, he studied it once more.  A small mark indicated the ruins of a monastery close by.

 “Hmm…If there are wells, there will certainly be water there. “

 Hope sprung up anew in Hecun's heart.  Since dusk was fast approaching, Hecun resolved to set up camp at the monastery and so dispatched scouts in three directions to locate it.

    

                                                                                  ~

 

(END OF SECTION 31)