11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC– EVIL PERSONIFIED – SECTION 1  

"Son of Wushing", Zonar called him. “Did he know? How did he know?”  Lenny never had the chance to ask the General. His closely guarded secret identity was known only to Sovereign Yoshikan Sousing Nokuzuk Binchan and now it seemed, to one other. He only hoped that it would go no further than General Zonar Kuntzu.  

01- LENNY SUKZOR (12)JP

  

Though Lenny Sukzor had returned to bed immediately after Zonar's abrupt departure, sleep till dawn had averted him; in an agitated state he had turned and tossed all night long, reminiscing, in his head considering missed (avenues) opportunities and possibilities and then, going over alternate plans.  

Lenny Sukzor recalled vividly the day which he had learned of his true parentage. His mother Ingrit, who had survived his father by just shy of two years, had confessed this to him at her deathbed, casting his heart, for a lengthy period, into utter turmoil. Lenny had undergone a drastic change then, discovering that all those years of his life had been a lie. Yes, all those closest to him had betrayed his trust, only they had called it "protecting" him. More likely it had served their purpose to keep him ignorant; but however, you termed it; Lenny Sukzor was the product of a grand indiscretion.  

At the time of Minister Keko Wushing’s trip to the capital Channing in Wenjenkun to elicit support for Korion, he had stayed as the houseguest of Minister Dongue Youlu and the two had found they had much in common. Minister Youlu, the most generous host, had given many feasts in Wushing's honor. After one such dinner, and more inebriated than usual, Wushing had chanced upon in the Fuchisia Pavilion, the Minister's beautiful fourth daughter named Ingrit. Unable to help himself, and helped along by the wine, powerless to resist her charm. He had fallen deeply in love and going against propriety, had seduced this innocent fairy maiden. At dawn, of course, he immediately regretted his indiscretion of the previous night and was of a mind to set things right by formally asking for her hand in marriage and taking her back, as his second wife, to his home in Korion. Unlike Wenjenkun, it was the norm in Korion at that time, for the well-off gentry to have more than one wife.

02- INGRIT YOULU- LATER BECAME INGRIT SUKZOR

 Unfortunately, events took a wrong turn and, before he could reveal his honorable intentions to Minister Dongue Youlu, he was whisked away to manage (oversee) other more pressing concerns. As affairs of the state took precedence over affairs of the heart, the matter had then been temporarily shelved.  

Wushing never learned of her pregnancy until after he had already departed for Korion; nevertheless, he vowed to send for her. But once again other things took precedence, like the complete rebuilding of the nation.  

Meanwhile, as she was from an old, well-established family, when her condition became known to her father, she had been forced into a hurried marriage with another, hence the surname of Sukzor.  

The ensuing turmoil of the following years, Zakhertan Yozdek’s rise to power and usurpation of the throne, his punitive campaign against Korion. It had been as though fate had conspired to keep Lenny Sukzor from ever knowing the truth. Thinking Keikon Sukzor was his natural father, he had cheered on relentlessly when Korion was subjugated and its populous nearly got extinguished. He had been brought up to believe that Wushing was a monstrous, most cunning political leader (statesperson) whose only purpose had been to oppose Wenjenkun; hence he should be despised and spat upon.  

03- WUSHING, THE MINISTER OF INTERIOR B

As it were, (believing in the state’s propaganda)  Lenny Sukzor had been the staunch supporter of Zakhertan Yozdek from the very start and had been one of the youngest statesmen that had devised the ingenious stratagems that had brought about the near destruction of Korion and, the subsequent expansion of Wenjenkun's territories, through the subjugation of many other border states to the north and then to the west.   

At the time Lenny Sukzor had been baffled by his mother's silent brooding and her seeming indifference when she heard news of the conquest and then the humiliating subjugation of Korion. Lenny Sukzor again winced recollecting his unfair, remonstrations with his mother that had resulted in her (copious) profuse tears.  

Lenny sat upright and, after drinking two swigs (mouthfuls) of water from the jug to quench his thirst, he went over and drew aside a crack the thick window (coverings) curtains, wishing to gaze at the night sky to calm his mind and bring about sleep. The remaining hours however had passed in a wink with no such luck; when the first rays of dawn (sunrise) caressed his face, “Oh well, I might as well get up now.” Grumbling, he threw his covers off and bolted from the bed.  

Shortly after dawn that same day, Lenny Sukzor arrived at Yoshikon Temple as he, a devout Hexoc, so often did, to offer prayers and give sacrifice to the local deity. As was the custom, a monk was assigned to assist him in bringing the complex rituals to completion after which he was served a specially prepared tea by the same monk in a private corner.

There was nothing unusual in this peaceful exchange and time for soothing reflection, a time in which, the monk clarified the scriptures or resolved a particular concern of a Hexos’ devotee. But appearances can be deceiving. It was not entirely by accident, that this monk had been assigned to Lenny Sukzor, nor was it strictly religious doctrines that were, with hushed voices, being discussed. With spies rampant everywhere, Black Molochs had developed an ingenious, coded dialogue where a rich duplicity of meanings was encapsulated in religious terminology and metaphors. This was one of three alternate means with which contact ‘couriers conveyed a vital covert message to the secret affiliate. Thus far they had been most fortunate that this means of communication had escaped detection by the ever-watchful agents of one of the other factions.  

Although Channing at night was a beehive of clandestine activities, necessitating the rigorous vigilance of the Secret Police to track (track) most if not all of it, there was by no means any laxity felt during the daylight hours either.  

Whether it was a brazen act or a foolhardy one, Wenjenkun’s Minister of Internal Security- Egil Viggoaries held the most secret meetings of his coterie in broad daylight right under their noses, disguised of course as official acts or plausible social calls. This afternoon, the members of the Inner Circle of the Order of The Black Molochs that were gathered in the meeting hall were particularly restless. They were all bound together by an intricate system of complex initiation rituals, secret oaths, and ceremonial intermingling of living blood, and it was one of their own who would be tried before them now. At the proper time, the news of Zhadol Borym’s capture, and subsequent incarceration had reached them all. Whether they admitted it or not, Zhadol had ingratiated himself with all the members of the Order's Inner Circle and, as the veteran member of the group, most owed him a favor or two.  

04- COMANDER ZHADOL BORYM

  

Mindful of this stiff opposition, Egil Viggoaries had taken certain precautionary measures to curb all anticipated appeals on behalf of Zhadol. For some time now he had deemed Zhadol as expendable and already had his replacement waiting in the wings. As a means of demonstrating his incompetence and ineffectiveness, Zhadol had been assigned to a task that was doomed (with certain measure of certainty) to fail. When news of Fradel Rurik Korvald’s safe arrival in the Capital had reached him, Egil Viggoaries had neither been surprised nor particularly pleased. It had merely turned out just as he had anticipated it, although the subsequent reports of Zhadol Borym’s attempted suicide had taken him aback ever so slightly.  

Yes, that piece of news had disappointed, or rather, annoyed him, for he had at least expected, or hoped for a more fitting end to the old pro.  

Of course, Egil Viggoaries would never admit this, even to himself, and would have outright denied that a small part of him secretly harbored a certain fondness for his once lifelong companion. The simple fact was that Zhadol Borym had grown useless of late; he had softened up. Admittedly, the source of this weakness was his relationship with Lieutenant Yennic Zhiborym, and Egil Viggoaries was not above underhandedly manipulating this relationship to his own advantage. Once, at a rare moment’s weakness, Egil had regretted this ploy, but even so he could delude himself only so much. In truth, unable to purge his heart of this seething jealous anger, this dissatisfaction with Zhadol Borym. He had sought by this means to denigrate him, to pay him back for that insolent, ill-conceived act.  

As anticipated, it had been Yennic who had stopped Zhadol from terminating his own life while at the same time covertly abetted in Zhadol’s capture. Yennic thought he was invaluable because he could communicate with the ravens; a claim Egil Viggoaries did not truly believe, thinking it to be nothing more than a parlor trick. Ambitious cur that he was, Yennic had hoped to advance his own prospects through this act of treachery, only to find he had grossly underestimated the gravity of the situation and the dire outcome, not only for Zhadol but for himself as well.

05- LIEUTENANT YENNIC

  

“Did the worm really think that we would not find out about him; furthermore, that the Order would blindly foster his ambitions? He had some gall (some nerves, cheek). “Egil scoffed with utter disdain. For even if Yennic had been other than what Egil had suspected, he would still be of little use to the Order. Egil Viggoaries ate rodents like Yennic for breakfast.  

“Could it be that he did not understand the Ritual? He was motivated out of true affection?"  Egil Viggoaries, meanwhile, typically turned a deft ear to the sympathetic whispers about Zhadol.  

“Well, no point in delaying the inevitable.” Egil Viggoaries grimaced venomously as he descended the steps leading to the antechamber.  

As soon as he entered the room, they all snapped smartly to attention; heads slightly bowed in ritual submission. At the same instant, a strained silence took hold, enveloping the assembly. With deliberate slowness, Egil Viggoaries strode to the other side of the hall and assumed his position. When seated he scanned the faces of the eleven men before him, meeting their eyes as they stood rigidly erect, hands at their sides, motionless as if they had been cast in bronze.  

Egil Viggoaries’s eyes passed over Lenny Sukzor, resting for an extended period on this replacement of Lance Diostin as he stood farthest away in the circle, least in nominal order of importance. As he sized the man up, he noted how the recruit was puffed up with arrogance and he nodded coolly, absently as he donned a sinister grin. The starkly unoccupied chair to Egil Viggoaries’s right stood as a magnet for the ambitions spread out below him and as a grim reminder of the coming unpleasantness that awaited them at the end of this day's session.  

One by one, the more pressing matters on the agenda were swiftly dealt with. From this point on, the orders and instructions would be relayed to the rest. The eighty-nine subordinate officers who, each entrusted with small, strictly regimented contingents of their own in all corners of the empire, waited in the wings. It was indisputably the most efficient spy network, as well as a competent paramilitary force that was not to be trifled with. It was all the brainchild of one man, Egil Viggoaries, who had constructed the foundations of this network in theory when he was no more than thirteen years of age.

Briefly perusing the preliminary issues on the agenda for the next gathering, Egil Viggoaries then set up the ordinary business aside and motioned for the prisoners to be brought in to face their tribunal. Their trial and sure conviction had already occurred, in the mind of Egil Viggoaries and this scene was a sham, a mere formality to make a sure impression on the others under a pretense of fairness. It was a game Egil Viggoaries occasionally allowed himself to indulge in.

Despite the sure anticipation of Zhadol’s condition, his appearance all bound and gagged and his face bearing the sure signs of grievous maltreatment, which evoked in many of his former comrades the long forgotten, deeply buried feelings of compassion and pity.

06- WARRIOR FRIENDS (33)

No one cared about the inconsequential Yennic Zhiborym, whose face and body bore the traces of the most horrendous and brutal torture; and where once most of his refined, distinctive features attracted many, presently bore the marks of countless lacerations and ugly deep scars.  Yet this fact did not even elicit one furrowed brow; far from it, it pleased them to observe Yennic's obvious tortured state. He was so roundly despised for his role in the capture and vilification of Zhadol. They jeered and gnashed their teeth when viewing Yennic, yet heaved a secret, dejected sigh when stealing a glance at Zhadol Borym. Still, not a single whisper of protest mounted on Zhadol Borym's behalf escaped their tightly sealed lips, so properly intimidated were they by the wrath of Egil Viggoaries.

Nevertheless, in the averted eyes of a more enlightened minority, there were unmistakable indications (marks) of slight visible hint, as they looked for ways to exonerate Zhadol Borym from all blame. Truth be told, they had stealthily harbored the notion that their compatriot had been the unfortunate victim of an odious intrigue and that his failure was but compounded from that original failing.

07- FRIENDS OF COMMANDER ZHADOL

With a slight indication of the chin from Egil Viggoaries, the stone-faced guards pushed Zhadol Borym forward to fall to his knees before the Dark Eunuch. Egil Viggoaries had earned that distinction of being referred to as Dark Eunuch, because of the extreme cruelty of his innate nature and soul.  

Linked to Zhadol Borym by the heavy bronze chains, this action of the guards had also pushed Yennic Zhiborym on his knees, causing the manacles to sink further into the already gaping wounds in his neck, ankles, and wrists. But Yennic’s involuntary cry of pain had elicited only a brief mocking glances from few of the Inner Circle members of the Black Molochs; contrastingly, Zhadol's eyes had held a degree of compassion for the rag doll of a figure who had once been his friend. Looking away from Yennic, Zhadol Borym fearlessly glared round this circle of stone-faced leaders, forcing them one by one to avert their eyes before he next turned his burning, defiant, reproachful gaze to rest on Egil Viggoaries.  

“So, all these years of loyalty (loyal service) and intimacy counted for nothing? Now I am discarded like a dirty rag. I protest this injustice; I do not deserve this disgraceful treatment!”  

Despite the rush of memories Zhadol's defiant, intrepid manner had brought to Egil Viggoaries’s mind, he had remained outwardly resolute and pinned his icy, odious glare (eyes filled with loathing) on Zhadol. “There can be no absolution for your crime! You know the rules, yet you dared to stand stoically unrelenting!"  The Dark Eunuch’s furious roar suddenly broke the tense, eerie silence that had enveloped the room.  

"Death is death!" Zhadol Borym spat the words out of his bloodied, bruised mouth as he glared back at Egil Viggoaries. Bristling with anger, he cried out in a voice that crackled with hatred and revulsion. "My only crime is that prior, I tried to cheat you out of the great satisfaction my death would bring you. So why defer your perverse pleasure? Get on with it!” Then, scornfully, he added, "But have you considered all the possible ramifications of your actions?"  

Egil Viggoaries reared upwards like a viper (cobra) and hissed, "Are you finished?"  

"Finished; no, not by a long shot!" Zhadol Borym defiantly countered. As a condemned man he had little to lose, and he was determined to face his end with stoicism and a certain dignity. He spoke fervently, "We all know you sent me on that fool's errand knowing I would fail. You deemed I was expendable, and you wanted me to be supplanted (replaced, offed). But why should you go to all that trouble?"  Then Zhadol Borym gave a derisive laugh.  

All present in the hall quaked in their boots for his dared effrontery. Zhadol Borym may be a doomed man, yet they knew that Egil Viggoaries was not one to be provoked.   

“Such prodigious (immense, outstanding) audacity (nerve) Zhadol Borym had!”  All eyes were pinned on Egil Viggoaries, trying to gauge the cruelty of his response. Unfortunately, the Dark Eunuch's stone-cold face said it all.   

Even though Egil had remained outwardly, atypically placid, the threat was implicit in his eyes. Furthermore, his icy silence spoke volumes. Zhadol would pay, and oh so dearly, for this (impudence) outburst!  

08- EGIL VIGGOARIES - THE DARK EUNUCH

Lieutenant Yennic , unwisely (foolishly) at this point summoning all his strength, girded up his courage and edged forward, ready to use his glib tongue, while it was still attached to his mouth, to plead for both their lives. Before he could speak, however, he was struck flat by the stout, heartless guards. No one wanted to hear from Yennic at this juncture; he was nothing more than mere vermin.  

"I warned you," Zhadol’s reproachful and dismayed look said to Yennic, as he shook his head. 

"But would you listen? Would you listen to good counsel? (pay me any heed?)"  

   

Even though Zhadol knew it was useless, his compassionate heart nevertheless urged him to plead on Yennic’s behalf; Yennic might be spared small measure of punishment, if Zhadol humiliated himself enough, to appease Egil Viggoaries’s perverse sensibilities.  

Surmising his intent, Egil Viggoaries grinned. "You would do better to plead for your own self." He leaned forward to sneer (jeer, taunt, hiss) venomously.

"Would it do any good?" Zhadol Borym sternly asked.  

"No," Egil Viggoaries glowered down at him, "but it may amuse us and we may then possibly show some measure of leniency in the severity of and (length) span of time of “TK Cuts,” before your demise."  He was of course blatantly lying. There would be no mercy; his face contorted in a snarling grin as he leaned back once more to scan with narrow, pitiless eyes on the faces in the room.

“Ten Thousand Cuts,” Zhadol Borym winced and swallowed hard. "Why so severe a penalty?"  He then got a grip on his senses and, again defiantly, incredulously, shook his head.  His horror meanwhile was impromptu (involuntarily) mirrored on the faces of all those assembled. Suddenly, the profusion of images, those wretched beings, and the anguished cries of the past victims, which Dark Eunuch had doomed to this manner of death, now paraded before everyone’s eyes, and echoed in their ears.

Zhadol, despite his outward stoicism, inwardly could not help but recoil in horror, for he knew all too well; the prolonged suffering (of appalling shame, ghastly anguish) that awaited him in the depths of dungeons below before his life finally was terminated! His body, now defiant of his will, slightly trembled, and his knees threatened to buckle under him.  

“That’s a terrible way to die!” All eyes in the circle implored Egil Viggoaries. “This is not right; his crime is not grave enough to warrant such punishment. He is, or rather was, one of us.”  

Despite his ashen face, his quaking muscles, Zhadol Borym bit his tongue and clenched his fists, refusing to give Egil Viggoaries more of what he wanted, knowing in his heart of hearts that it would not do him any good. Even so, was there no one there brave enough to raise the slightest protest, the least objection for him? A fleeting tragic smile crossed Zhadol’s lip and then changed to a grimace of contempt as he looked. No, spineless cowards were all; he stood alone in all of this. After Zhadol’s eyes had searched the faces of his fellow associates, it had then abruptly caught Yennic's bewildered look and, fearing the worst for his partner, Zhadol turned his questioning stare back on Egil Viggoaries.

Answering the unspoken question with a venomous grin, Egil Viggoaries nodded.  

“How could I have expected any different?” Zhadol Borym lowered his eyes and ceded the point, pained that Yennic Zhiborym, too, awaited the same ill fate.  

  

(END OF SECTION 1)    

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 14

 

“Now, you've heard how Kuric and Ruat had a falling out a while back?"   Zhadol paused to acknowledge the confirming nod from Yennic before continuing, "It’s no secret that, since then, they have become bitter adversaries, always trying to undermine each other.”

01-KURIC AND RUAT

“Sorek’s involvement was quite incidental.  In fact, it is my contention that he was victimized by the malicious slander that started it all.  Chakon, Kuric's brother-in-law, spread it with the hope of gaining much from Sorek's downfall."

"So, it was Chakon who told-on (betrayed) him?"

"No, Chakon doesn't have much clout.  He was only the instrument.  Ruat was behind it all.  He caused Sorek's disgrace after he'd finally succeeded in landing in Kuric, in serious trouble.  I suppose he feared repercussions from Sorek and worked to render him ineffective.  As for the trouble Kuric landed in, well you know Kuric has already been arrested, charged with conspiring with Frenzo in grand larceny and has had all his property confiscated."

"Then there was some truth to that rumor but that's preposterous!  He never even knew Frenzo." Yennic objected.

"None the less, Ruat has produced enough solid, incriminating evidence to prove otherwise.  It is also my contention that this is pure fabrication but who is there to contest it and prove otherwise?  All of Kuric's associates have severed their friendships and dealings with him out of fear.  Some have even fled the Capital, anticipating the ensuing repercussions."

"But not Sorek," Yennic grunted (contradicted).

02- SOREK

"Sorek was a fool,” Zhadol scoffed.  "Still, they couldn't have touched him because of his powerful family but, instead of keeping his mouth shut and laying low for a while, he incited trouble.  Over one trivial word, that's all it took.  Egil Viggoaries's spies, once informed by Ruat, brought this to His Excellency's attention.  Sorek was kidnapped, interrupting his sleep, in the middle of the night and brought before the Black Molochs to give an account of his disrespect.  Instead of cowering before the ensuing secret tribunal and begging Egil Viggoaries's mercy, as any sensible person might do, the fool remained indignant and insisted on the falseness of the charge.  I have no doubt the report was greatly exaggerated to make it come out as it did, but still there was some grain of truth to it.  Anyhow, not only was Sorek whipped senseless, but he was also disgraced by being stripped naked to the waist and …"   Zhadol abruptly fell silent and dropped his head.

 "I have no love for Sorek, you understand," he lifted his eyes, "but I felt that this branding punishment was a bit too severe."

"Is that why you refused to take part in, hmm, “Riding the Colt”, at the informal gathering in wee hours that night in His Excellency’s residence?" Yennic eagerly asked.

"I thought you said you didn't know anything about it?"

"I ran into the physician Coj, who attended on Sorek the next day." Yennic confessed.

"He's an old friend of my father's and I was under his good care when I'd contracted that serious childhood disease, Lurox Sores. Seeing his distraught state, I treated him to some wine, and, in his intoxicated state, he finally opened up to me a little.”

“But that muddle-headed fool Coj was too incoherent with his accounts (facts) to be of much use. Truly, I remained ignorant of the precise details that led up to the punishment till; I'd pieced it all together while I listened to you, just now."

“A likely story,” Nevetsecnuac smiled broadly.

Zhadol, appeared totally taken in (convinced) for, typically, he was blinded by his affection where Yennic was concerned.

"Your mind works quickly." Zhadol complimented.

"Thank you.” Yennic was pleased. “Yet Sorek is from one of the most powerful, old-established families, and their influence has grown further since Her Ladyship, recently the most favorite of His Highness Zakhertan Yozdek, awarded them her patronage.  Surely if anyone could have brought formal charges against His Excellency Egil Viggoaries before His Highness, they could.  Why is it then that Sorek's father chose to cover up this incident?"

"They knew it was useless.  Don't you understand?"   Zhadol looked intently at the Lieutenant.

"Yes," Yennic nodded, comprehending. "It would have been rather pointless for them to pursue the matter.  If it ever did become public knowledge the family would have suffered far worse from the loss of face.  That is why the whole matter was hushed up, swept under the carpet, so to speak, so expeditiously."

"Egil Viggoaries, knowing their weakness, dared to act as he did, choosing the perfect humiliation for one of Sorek's breeding.  In this instance, political power had very little to do with it,” Zhadol summarized.

Yennic knitted his brows, "Yet Sorek's uncle, Chancellor Derez, is known to be a dogged, vindictive man.  How did they manage to keep him out of this?"

03-CHANCELLOR DEREZ

"He's been too wrapped up in his own questionable dealings of late to pay too much attention to family matters.  That extortionist,” Zhadol snorted. "He's the worst of the lot, but he enjoys the protection of you-know-who and no one may speak ill of him or dare to expose his dirty dealings.  You know of the recent case of the Kyu murder?"

Yennic was aghast.  "He wasn't involved in that, was he?"

"Involved," Zhadol sneered.  "He engineered the whole thing."

"You have proof of your allegations?"

"Yes, but I dare not breathe a word of it to anyone other than you.  Anyhow, it’s all been covered up and two other innocent parties have been made to pay for the crime."

"You don't mean that Jekon and Mayoz Dur were innocent, after all," Yennic gasped.

04-JEKON

05-MAYOZ DUR

"Yes, they were.  I found out who had really carried out that gruesome deed."

"But those two confessed to doing it." Yennic insisted in disbelief.

"You, too, would have confessed to anything if you were subjected to the same kind of tortures they had been." Zhadol grimaced.

"They were publicly hanged!  Their families wiped out!" Yennic mumbled grimly, finding it hard to swallow this travesty of injustice.  The revelation had hit him particularly hard.  He recalled being an eyewitness to the executions and, like so many others, feeling a sense of vindication, that is, until now.

 Zhadol was perplexed by Yennic's strange demeanor and noted the strain, his grave expression which Yannic had failed to mask.  He was about to ask why Yennic took this news so hard when he was cut off.

"you’ve said you knew who the real assassins were…tell me before I burst; who were those darn cut-throats?" Yennic hotly demanded.

"Why, by the Heavens, are you getting all worked up for?  It’s all over and done with.  There isn't much that you, or anyone, can do now. Besides, it’s best that you remain ignorant of their identities.  Otherwise, with your hot head…"   Zhadol shook his head dismally, the concern evident in his voice. "With that explosive nature of yours you'll most likely land yourself in serious trouble.  I can't go around saving your neck all the time, you know.  Even I have my limitations."

 He held up a hand to cut short Yennic's bursting response.  "Honestly; it’s best you don't know of it.  I'm finding it hard to live with it myself."  He half turned, shrugging his shoulders, and looking away dispassionately.  "Then again, what's one more heaped on the mountain of injustices?"

Typically, his wise counsel fell on deaf ears as Yennic grasped Zhadol’s arm and swung him around till they were eye to eye.  "No, I must know!  You must tell me!" Yennic implored, charged with emotion.

Stone faced, Zhadol studied Yennic with curiosity. “Why are you being so persistent?  I've never known you to have ever been this emotional about a case before.”

"Don't you see?"  Yennic suddenly dropped Zhadol’s arm then abruptly confessed, "I was made their instrument, or don't you know that?  Of course, you were away on assignment when the case came up.  I helped capture Jekon and Mayoz Dur and deliver them to their unjust end.  I was the arresting officer!"  Yennic dropped his head in remorse.  "Even though they had once done me a good turn and they professed their innocence from the start, I still took them in."  Biting the corner of his lip, he looked up to Zhadol for absolution, "How was I to know?  Could I have acted any differently?"

Clearly Yennic was tormented by guilt and Zhadol nodded in understanding.  By putting his personal feelings aside, Yennic had, as always, done his utmost to impress his Superior.  Perhaps this once should have delved deeper into the reasons for it.

 "Then this portends (augurs) even more trouble."   Zhadol shook his head, "I'm sorry, Yennic, but..."  Yennic's contemptuous look froze the words on his tongue.

"You think so little of me?" Yennic turned his head away in dejection.

"If I do tell you their names, will you promise not to stir up trouble?"   Zhadol was softening.  "Promise me you won't go after them, for to do so would result only in your own undoing.  You'll be framed for some crime, or worse found lying dead in some ditch within a month.  You're too small a fish to fry and, though they may be insignificant in the scheme of things, they have powerful backing and they're treacherous, devoid of all conscience.  That's what makes them deadly for you."

"Yes,” Yennics responded. “I’ll take that into consideration.  I promise I won't do anything foolish; now, tell me who they are and, since this matter is so delicate, tell me how you found out about it."

"How I found out is not important, but..."

Yennic grasped Zhadol’s arm, squeezing it tight.  He already surmised how Zhadol had found out; the way he always found out about everything.  "You were about to tell me their names.  Stop all this stalling and tell me.  Tell me now!"

"You're out of line, Lieutenant!"   Zhadol jerked his arm free then, despite his better judgment, relented.  "It’s none other than Zunrogo Tugo and Gaos Zunkur."

These names, of course, meant nothing to Nevetsecnuac but he saw their profound effect on Yennic who, with clenched fist, gritted his teeth under snarling lips and dropped his head.

Concern registered on Zhadol’s face and, for the third time he reminded Yennic of his promise of constraint.  In his heart he knew, of course, that Yennic would break it for the Lieutenant had many other reasons for hating Zunrogo Tugo, especially Zunrogo.

06 - ZUNROGO TUGO JP 5

This latest bit had just added to the long list of grievances Yennic harbored against the man.  Yet this seeming calm on Yennic's part particularly alarmed Zhadol.  He would rather have seen Yennic explode with his predictable, searing rage, swearing abuse, and calling for hot, sweet revenge but nothing, not even a grunt or a muttered curse passed through those lips.  The brutal glint in his eye spoke volumes, however, about the inner resentment festering within him.

“Why are you holding me responsible?”  Zhadol shot back a questioning glance.

This unnerving silence had lasted only seconds but to all three it had seemed as though a far longer period had elapsed.

"Come now, we've been away long enough."   Zhadol placed a gentle, reassuring hand on Yennic's shoulder.

"The dawn should soon be upon us.  Let us return and get some shut eye."

Yennic responded with a mute nod then sprung smartly to his feet.  Halting briefly, they relieved themselves under the very tree in which Nevetsecnuac was hiding.  The cool breeze fanned their faces and delighted their senses as they lent a casual ear to distant hooting and the flapping of wings.

 

 

(END OF SECTION 14)

                                                                                       ~