Showing posts with label victim. Show all posts
Showing posts with label victim. Show all posts

Wednesday, 2 September 2026

11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 27

11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 27 - (BOOK 11- FINAL CHAPTER)

 

Indigo Owls,’ and The Shadow Brigades’ most recent concurrent reports however had revealed that radical elements and nonconformists had once again re-materialized, this time from the most unlikely quarter, though there had been no further activity since Lord Shouzi Yozdek’s dispatch (the now missing blackmail letter) which instigated a rebellion.


01-SHOUZI YOZDEK - JP - 4

The culprit Lord Shouzi's procrastination had nonetheless indicated that the planned uprising had been aborted or temporarily shelved. Latter being the stronger probability, and considering that Shouzi was no fool, nor would he undertake any action by halves, it meant that there was a far sinister ploy already in the works. This had warranted another prompt, stealthy (covert) incursion to quell the burgeoning trouble at the source; and so, Qarzten Caimund along with the small division of Black Band Guard Regiment had henceforth been swiftly dispatched to first secure irrefutable proof and then lawfully and permanently resolve this problem.  

Back in capital, Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek’s able agents from the Shadow Brigade meanwhile, had some time prior initiated the first part of the contingency plan by discreetly releasing certain information to Egil Viggoaries’s core team which in turn, had unleashed the anticipated, predictable set of events.


02- A ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (49) JP

Zakhertan Yozdek showing atypical (uncharacteristic) patience in the interim, had bided his time for an apt revenge on the Lord Shouzi Yozdek; for the moment it was sufficient to set in motion certain undertakings to simply demoralize the Lord's supporters and, to make the Lord's life an insufferable, nightmarish Hell.  

                                                                                      ~

Zakhertan Yozdek, being always informed of all his key subjects’ whereabouts, he knew that Lord Shouzi Yozdek would decidedly be residing at this time of the year in his favorite, posh residence (chateau) built on the higher altitude and in midst of dense, forested region of Kunset Mountains.


03-LORD SHOUZI HUNTING GROUNDS (COLLAGE)

Two or three times a year Shouzi stayed at this mansion (which was deceptively, well guarded and built to withstand any hostile incursion), to indulge in his favorite pastime, hunting, as there was in that pristine woodland, ample abundant game.

Zakhertan Yozdek’s stern visage (features) gradually eased as he now pondered and envisioned in his mind's eye the anticipated reaction of Lord Shouzi when he received the special, anonymous box from Channing:   

At dusk Lord Shouzi Yozdek and his group of riders (with their mounts’ backs laden with game) returning from a typical hunting excursion, would pass through the heavily guarded front gate into the courtyard.


04- HUNTING PARTY AT GATE

The Chief Steward would at once rush out of the main building eager to assist his lordship in dismounting his chocolate brown stallion; solicitously, in a servile manner he would then trail Lord Shouzi and his selective group of friends (hunters), passing through the front foyer with an elaborate, three-story staircase and upper halls, then enter into the grandiose (rather ostentatious) reception hall.

Their mounts, meanwhile, would have been led to the stables, while the prize trophies: a deer, dozens (heaps) of hares, a wild boar or two, and the copious game birds (wild geese, turkey, ducks etc.), would have all been swiftly hauled, to the storage or to the kitchens, by the army of underlings. They would become the centerpieces of subsequent (succeeding) days’ feasts.

Lord Shouzi's smile would broaden as he temporarily (fleetingly) halting just inside the entrance of the huge drawing room, his approving (laudatory) gaze sweeps succinctly over (take in the picture of) his faithful guests, before subsequently extending his pithy (concise) felicitations to them.

Zakhertan at this point seditiously smirked,  envisioning the notable patricians, Lord Shouzi’s so called loyal friends: those who did not partake in the exercise of hunt, a frailer bunch nevertheless vital, erudite gentry, and the snobbish male or female coquettes (flirts) all decked out in their colourful brocade attire (garments, gowns) and adorned with gleaming gems-  leisurely lounging about, engaged either in board games or private conversations, some reading, some smoking a pipe, some pensively brooding while they listen to the delightful music; and, fewer still indulging their pallets (tastebuds) as they partake in rare morsels (artistically arranged, mounted on top silver ornate trays on the buffet table) , blending it with the small sips from golden goblets, Lord’s( private reserves of) vintage wines.  

Some pretend not to have noticed his presence; few of those however, those that are not too supercilious (haughty, egotistical), though prior engrossed (occupied, absorbed), for a moment they pause (halt) what they are doing and in way of nod and a slight smile, reciprocate their akin, customary polite greetings (salutations) to him.


05- LORD SHOUZI'S PARTY - JP  (17)

Subsequently, the Lord and his hunting party withdraw to their private quarters to be refreshed, washed (cleaned) and don (put on, change into) more appropriate attire (clothing); they would then return to (re-group at) the huge dining room, to partake in the sumptuous feast and merry making.

Seated at the head of the table Lord Shouzi would then, embellishing the details, recount (describe) to the captive audience, the day's hunt, while the scantily dressed servants bustle about to and for (trotting back and forth), serving them more wine or lager beer, hot from the oven spicy bread, varied braised or barbecued meat, some of it in rich stew with plenty of vegetables.  Next, topping their culinary delight, would come the diverse (mixt) pastries- blood-pudding deserts, pies, multi-layer cakes and, finally, exotic fruits.


06 THE FEAST- 3

At this juncture, unexpectedly just then a messenger from Channing would arrive at the gate; horse and rider would be drenched in sweat from days’ ceaseless riding, with the mount's hooves having churned up huge clouds of dust along the way. The courier covered in dust would nevertheless be allowed to mount the steps and be let into the atrium (vestibule), where which after a short wait he would present His Lordship the gold and gem inlaid gift box. Lord Shouzi would receive it graciously, grinning (beaming) from ear to ear, seeing that it was from the Capital and anticipating therefore, only the best tidings…But then comes the delicious scene!  

Zakhertan Yozdek had wished that he could have been there and witnessed firsthand the contemptible Lord's horror, reflected in every one of his attendants’ faces, as his gaze remained frozen upon the mutilated, though quite recognizable head of Nijel Pinng, his so-called invaluable agent, staring at him, that morbid face instantly dashing all hopes into bits and searing his heart with an inexplicable fear.

 And in the aftermath of it, when Lord Shouzi quickly regains his senses, he would most certainly point the finger of blame at the only likely culprit, who else but Egil Viggoaries, for the notorious Surgeon Lubin's apparent handiwork would be unmistakable.

Brief time later, the news of Lord’s precious sons Yukksel and Konnur’s simultaneously accidental, tragic demises should reach him. At this point Zakhertan absentmindedly nodded his head, as he’d already received confirmation and the details of it, from his Serpent Death Squad; whom, three weeks prior he’d covertly assigned (dispatched), a small contingent of highly skilled assassins from the SDS, that had orchestrated Yukksel and Konnur Yozdek’s certain (guaranteed, absolute) destructions.

Lord Shouzi’s son Yukksel’s tragic death from the bizarre hunting mishap and Konnur’s, from a drowning calamity when the boat he was travelling in was attacked by an unknown group of pirates and capsized.

Zakhertan’s heart, temporarily for the moment was angst (tormented), for over the years he’d watched those proficient, adroit warriors and strikingly handsome boys grow up; furthermore, he had liked his nephews!


07-SHOUZI YOZDEK'S SECOND SON YUKKSEL AND THIRD SON KONNUR-3 JP

Zakhertan, suddenly needing a breath of fresh air, he stepped quietly outside of his second story respite-room to stand by the railing of his private veranda (terrace). He, for several moments just wistfully stared into distance of pitch darkness of the mantled earth, finding it strangely soothing; and thus, his momentary lapse of guilt gradually abated (ended, passed). But irately, those momentous occasions of their feat (achievements, deeds) rushed back to parade before his mind’s eye and razor-sharp talons gripped his heart anew and wrenched it; therefore, his conscience yet again smarted (ached, stung) by mass ruminations (musings), he pensively (reflectively, sadly) lifted his eyes and stared at the brilliant array of stars in the sky.

After a time Zakhertan, succeeding in once more turning his heart to stone, simply shrugged his shoulders. It was, after all, a necessary evil.  Once the unconsolable (devastated, utterly distraught) Lord Shouzi obtained an apt, planted proof (through various means) of who had authorized their expiry, the Dark Eunuch, would permanently thence, be regarded as the Lord's arch nemesis. The consequential fierce reprisals (retaliations, sequels) should then, if it does not destroy one of them, it at least will for this crucial period in time, seriously thwart (impede, hinder or foil) both Lord Shouzi’s (backed by P.M Lamont Gudaren) and Egil Viggoaries’s lasting (enduring) ambitions.    

Zakhertan sporting a malevolent grin just then, imagined even allowing the patsy (pawn) victor, to temporarily (for short span) experience, to being the Sovereign of Wenjenkun and all that it entailed, before yanking the power away and initiating, the would-be usurper’s (and his supporters) traumatizing, utter annihilation (destruction, devastating ruin).

“And on that ‘Day of Reckoning,’ the champ (titleholder) can mount his bloody throne in Hell!”  Zakhertan Yozdek threw his head back and guffawed, cogitating on the delicious worst cruelty (harm) that had awaited all, particularly his detestable (hateful) kin Lord Shouzi Yozdek, the abhorrent Lamont Gudaren and the indubitably repugnant Dark Eunuch Egil Viggoaries, and finally, his most ardent foe Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon, the bane of his life.


08- EGIL VIGGORIES 2- JP.jpg3

Zakhertan’s amusement had nevertheless as abruptly had again vanished, as another annoyance (more serious irritant) unexpectedly just then, intruded into his brain. Why hadn’t there been any word from the dispatched, presumably most competent assassin Duan; did the Demon Lord Asger Zhon yet again absconded along with the devil’s spawn Prince Nevetsecnuac, both surviving his perilous snares? Why was he perpetually surrounded by intolerable (reprehensible) sheer incompetence?

His restless mood once more flared up, Zakhertan Yozdek could no longer sit still.    

Blast! All this (documents needing his perusal and action) would have to wait. He needed to extinguish this searing fire engulfing his chest, before it consumed him; hence, he needed an outlet of some kind- preferably an intense combat, to release all that pent-up energy as well. If not, she would do in a pinch.


09- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (107)

Zakhertan hence, bolted to his feet and stormed downstairs and out the door. The grounds had once more reverted to being pitched dark as the whipping (punishing) high winds had congregated flotilla of clouds to obscure both the moon and the stars in the sky.

Even so, like a voracious, predacious beast, Zakhertan stalked the grounds of the North Palace in the dead of night from one end to the other (his personal guards hard pressed to keep up with his pace), even hoping to encounter an assassin. All the while unseen Palace sentinels stood on edge, for the Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek was habitually again on the prowl, looking for a victim, a worthy prey to (tear apart and) devour.    

Subsequent two hours Zakhertan ardently searched (looked) for something out of order, anything amiss, to unleash his fury on and to relieve this oppressive void sensation that seemed to have seeped into his bones and left him, his spirit, yet again restless and unsatisfied. Boredom was his arch nemesis, the worst kind of enemy!   

But his efforts were all in vain, for he was the victim of his own efficiency.

Zakhertan eventually gave a huff of derision and turned, his steps leading him to the stables; a brief time later having mounted his pure-bred black stallion Night Thunder, he rode like the wind, to reach the South Palace where more than two hundred heavenly beauties existed just for his pleasure. He knew that this was no substitute for a goring fight or a blood-curdling, killing-spree sport (for exhilaration, diversion) but for the time being it would have to do. His steps eventually led him to the private quarters of Lady Sejon, though in the dead of night, his sudden presence created such an upsurge of fear and vitality that the place churned with buzzing beehive activity.  


10- A ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (10) JP2

Zakhertan had of course, first visited his son Magnian briefly then sought the company of his recent favorite Lady Sejon who would, he knew, perform just so to keep him amused and interested. The recent set of events and her deception had not impeded nor altered his attraction to her for it was only physical. As she was a cut above the others, he used her beauty, her body to satiate (satisfy) every now and then, that needy corner of his soul… 

Besides which, as far as he was concerned, she had acted predictably for one in her position. He expected nothing less so, she would do for now, until he tired of her. Meanwhile, so skilled was Lady Sejon in the arts of pleasure that she always managed to entertain him even at times like this. It secretly amused Zakhertan to see how she responded, believing she was favored above all others. Careful not to overstep her boundaries, Sejon, niece of P.M. Lamont  Gudaren thought she was gradually ingratiating herself with at least nine influential courtiers.    

She may or may not expire before the purge. Like a cat watching a mouse Zakhertan had given her certain liberties that he knew would be her undoing before long. Till then as he tracked her predictable progress, he expected to at least be mildly diverted from his other qualms (fret).

 

(END OF SECTION 27- FINAL CHAPTER OF EVIL PERSONIFIED- NEXT POST WILL BE BOOK 12- THE PORTENDED PERIL)

 

                                                                                    ~                    

 


 

Thursday, 18 December 2025

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE CAPITAL CHANNING - SECTION 4

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE CAPITAL CHANNING - SECTION 4

Back in his offices, Lamont Gudaren studied the full set of documents very carefully, astutely reading between the lines. He’d thought Luvet would make a perfect undercover agent; he had a clean record, and he was such a bookworm and rather dull academician. He was least romantic, a tedious oaf (boor, fool, klutz); so how did he get so enmeshed with Disaidun Agripe? Who would have thought Ceroz had it in him to do what he did. What really went on in that boat would be anyone’s guess? He’d read Zunrogo Tugo’s brief report also, talking about another disappointment.

 

01- PM LAMONT GUDAREN 10-JP

Lamont’s thoughts turned to his most pressing problem, his nephew Yekav. Personally, he didn't care much for the boy.  His ward was a constant source of disappointment and now a definite liability.

“That idiot nephew of mine, Yekov, is sure to be implicated in this crime, though it seems to be only indirectly.  It may take some doing but I still have influence enough to extricate him from all blame.”

Lamont Gudaren would have said good riddance to Yekov, but in view of these recent developments, for if he did not take certain measures in time to nip this in the bud, Lamont knew that there would be far reaching consequences (repercussions) for him.

The charges were based partially on the truth, this proof had been furnished to him, within a detailed report he had commissioned earlier on, by his operatives (agents).  If Lamont wanted to get well ahead of Egil Viggoaries and his cronies, he could delay acting on this no longer.

“All avenues must be blocked; all incriminating evidence eliminated at the source before the cursed eunuch Egil gains any real advantage. Yekov (his troublesome nephew) will eventually be exonerated, but this will be the last time I’ll go through this much trouble for that dastardly boy.  A fatal hunting accident while visiting his half-brother Keigo Ro in Kensu Province… Hmm… that shouldn’t be too hard, to arrange. “

Having settled on the handling of the problem, Lamont Gudaren dispatched his trusted secretary with the appropriate instructions to ensure that the cover-up was carried out immediately, without a hitch.  The matter now settled, he leaned back in his plush chair and wearily closed his eyes.

This whole business with the boy, mounted upon his other concerns, had irritated him a bit too much.  At times like these, he was happy he had only two female offspring.  They were quite beautiful, too, like their mother.  He was hopeful for their future prospects, but they were still too young for him to include them in his machinations.

 Lamont opened his eyes and stared at the stack of documents that demanded his perusal and signature.  Every day was the same.  However much he delegated, his workload still seemed to increase.  There were never enough manpower and funds to allocate, to deal with all of it satisfactorily.  In view of all the extravagant expenditure, especially those of Royal Family’s, the State funds were fast being depleted.  The treasury accounting records showed a consistent, mounting deficit year after year.

 Owing (due) to a summer drought last year in the western provinces and floods along the lower Yawjun River this spring, the government granaries were at only half of the level (capacity) they should be at this time of the year.  Yet with the new military campaigns, the lavish architectural projects, the bribes that must be paid to assuage the rampant corruption, the fiefdoms granted almost at random, the taxes already a burden, perpetually mounting, he wondered, where would it all end?

 As a matter of fact, Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren was at his wits-end trying to find a plausible solution to the failing economy, the rampaging deficit, and at the same time to procure adequate funds for the military and the growing demands for the so-called necessary expenditures incurred for the benefit of the state.  The only partial relief came after the advocated wars when the much-needed tribute was finally paid.

How much longer could they sustain this appearance of a strong nation?  The system was rotten to the core.  But would he dare to let any criticism slip through into any of his reports?  His Highness was most intolerant of any failings, any weakness.  Even the Censorate Bureau, the Treasury Department, the Imperial spies, and Internal Security had all acted as if one body, collaborating with him to obscure these findings, stalling for time until a solution presented itself.

Despite all seeming appearances, his own personal finances were in no great shape either; at least not in the kind of plateau (area of stability) he would like it to be. 

“Ah!  But I have had a few lucky breaks now and then, haven't I?” He stood up, clasped his hands behind his back and slowly strolled over to the window.

 “Mmm! “The sweet scent of rare orchids rose from the courtyard to regale his nostrils.  His eyes fixed themselves to the upright, solid lines of the gingko tree in the center as his thoughts moved on to the upstanding Under Secretary Lenny Sukzor, a man well respected by the Sovereign for his integrity, his strong character, efficiency resourcefulness and his no-nonsense frankness.

In the crunch, it was Lenny Sukzor who could be counted on to diligently carry out the most difficult and delicate jobs that all others shunned for fear of failure. 

 

02- LENNY SUKZOR (2)JP

Lamont Gudaren grinned wryly as he thought back to how the Under Secretary had, quite unexpectedly, disclosed in Court the entire amount of the bribe he had personally received from the emissaries from Kontu, forcing the rest of the Court bureaucrats to do likewise, though Lamont doubted their accuracy of the count, after all, even he had concealed a few small items.

Earlier on, against the advice of many of his well-meaning associates and good friends who had strongly advocated that he gain maximum benefit from the emissaries' offer, Lenny had ruffled few feathers by seeking the Prime Minister Lamont's good council on how best to refuse the gifts secretly lavished on him and return them to the delegation from Kontu.

“Hopefully," Lenny had hemmed and hawed at this point, making an outward show of humility, "this can be done without stepping on any toes, instigating any ill will or triggering any diplomatic incident."

In his heart of hearts, Lamont Gudaren had always disliked the man and thought of him as too ambitious, too pretentious, a tiresome boor and, an instigator of unwarranted troubles if nothing else.

 At the time, he had almost petulantly (sullenly) dismissed him, for his audacity, which would have been a grave mistake on his part. Meanwhile this irregularity raised his suspicions. “Since when, and for what reason our bold, no-nonsense Under Secretary has become so circumspect and elliptical, all of a sudden?”

 Prudently Lamont had at first been rather evasive with his response; but then on second thought, he had concealed his true feelings and his immense annoyance at the upstart and had pretended to acquiesce, with him. Lamont had very graciously then promised to intercede diplomatically on Lenny's behalf and handle the matter of returning the bribes for him. 

Admittedly, that was a bothersome trifle but in the end the benefits he would reap would certainly exceed all expectations.

Lenny Sukzor, not concealing too well his disappointment, suddenly had a change of heart (mind).  Bowing low, he’d profusely apologized for his thoughtlessness in troubling Lamont; then asserting that it would be way too troublesome for Prime Minister and therefore not wishing to impose, stated that, however hard it might be, he would personally handle this matter.

In retrospect, Lamont saw now, this was an underestimation of the man.

 Alas, he’d regretted since then, not anticipating Lenny's next move and upstaging the upstart, by his returning the bribes in a timely manner; for as it happened, Lenny Sukzor had shone like a bright star from that time on, in Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek's estimation; hadn’t he?

“No matter,” Lamont shook his head, but his face grew long and a dark, as shadow fell over his eyes.

Well, that's water under the bridge now; a missed opportunity is a missed opportunity.” Lamont shrugged; but then his spirits lifted as he thought, “Oh well, at least it wasn't an entire loss. I still got a piece of Lenny Sukzor’s good fortune.”

Lamont picked up the top document and perused it, “This one can wait.” He disdainfully set it aside.

His thoughts reverting to Lenny Sukzor, “Hmm, it turns out he was way too shrewd and certainly far-sighted. “Lamont admitted to himself.

Or perhaps he lacked concrete proof and hoped to delicately forewarn me and the others of the impending disaster.  That may be why he sought first my unneeded advice when, with that glib tongue of his, he could have at any point in time, resolved the matter himself. 

The Prime Minister considered for a time this well-calculated, politically astute move on Lenny's part.  “No, I'm giving him way too much credit.”  He perfunctorily dismissed (rejected) the notion; still, what had transpired next, with an unexpected turn of events, had been a boon.

“It’s that devil Egil Viggoaries that rendered me this great favor, despite him.”

 

03- EGIL VIGGORIES -9JP

The thought of his nemesis seething in rage brought a fresh broad grin of satisfaction to Lamont’s lips.

“I, myself, could not have thought of a better plan than this stroke of luck.  Always plotting to undermine my efforts, it serves that mongrel- dog right that he should now stew in his own juices.” The Prime Minister gloated.

Indeed, before he could fulfill his promise to Lenny of returning the gold to the emissaries, a sudden turn of events had dictated that he follows a different strategy and gain an invaluable opportunity to add a prized addition to his web of secret affiliates. Even though he had not moved thus far to collect on the debt, he was content with the knowledge that Lenny Sukzor was now his to do with as he saw fit. 

“Yes, Lenny Sukzor, with your unblemished reputation, I now own, your body and soul, lock, stock and barrel.” 

The Kontu emissaries had struck a favorable bargain, wherein they had agreed to take the gold itself back without any ill will but would, to mollify their Emperor, leave the rare gifts with their recipient.  Just before Lenny's gold was to be transported back to them, however, a disastrous fire, coincidentally started by lightning, had decimated (consumed) half of the Under Secretary's mansion.

Though the gold in question was stored in that wing of the building that was completely gutted by the fire, it would still have been salvageable with a little effort once the rubble was cleared.  And lo and behold, when they managed that, they found that the entire lot had simply vanished without a trace.

Lamont had suspected that arson was merely a cover-up for a robbery affected by the cooperation of one or two of Lenny’s retinues (attendants).  However, his subsequent covert investigation failed to uncover least trace of incriminating evidence at the scene.  This proved that the thorough job was executed by a professional group’s backing; one capable and powerful enough to affect covert, illegal transaction of disposing of a hot item, one such great mass (heap) of gold.

“Yes,” Lamont sat in chair by the window, “in some ways Lenny Sukzor is still naive. I could have perhaps prevented his open ended (unrestricted, indefinite) investigation and spared him from all that dire trouble; for all the good it did.”   As it were, from the first moment Lamont had heard of the fire, he’d guessed there was a deeper plot at the crux of it all, and it wasn't hard for him to deduce just who, considering the open altercation at Court Lenny had had with Egil Viggoaries just the week before over that trivial matter, the perpetrator (executor) behind it all was.  The eunuch was most notorious for his spiteful (malicious), vindictive nature and his greed, and hardly anyone else had the power to get to Chief Inspector Yori.

No, that wasn't it, at all. “The Prime Minister quickly dismissed that feeble basis from his overall hypothesis (theory). “There was far more at stake here.”

Knitting his brows, he inclined his head and digressed, reflected on how the Chief Inspector had been a competent, reliable officer ever since Lamont Gudaren had handpicked him for the position.  Up until the fire there had not been any cause, not even the slightest reason to question Yori's integrity or competence.  For eight years of diligent work, he had maintained an unblemished record to his credit but in the blink of an eye that had all changed when, despite the hints of arson, he’d refused to consider any notions of foul play and had persisted in contending in his otherwise meticulous report that it had been lightning that had caused the destruction to Lenny's property.  Of course, Yori was a man who relied solely upon solid evidence to draw his indisputable conclusions, and in this instance all the facts available pointed to lightning as being the cause of the destruction. 

There were no irregularities to warrant Yori's suspicion, what else could Lamont have expected of the man?  The Prime Minister had even asked himself what grounds he had to suspect the Chief Inspector.

“All right then,” the Prime Minister quietly conceded. “There must be another explanation for Yori's unsatisfactory (botched, bungled) investigation of Undersecretary Lenny Sukzor's case. “

 “Perhaps I'm being too harsh, too demanding of the man's ability?” For even his (Lamont’s) own team of experts had failed to prove otherwise; as with all the findings, all the clues had tallied perfectly with the Chief Inspector's original report.  But Lamont Gudaren was innately (instinctively) stubborn official; for countless hours hence, he had poured over both the reports himself, meticulously examining every detail, scrutinizing every recorded fact and, even though it all came to no avail (even he could not detect any irregularities, no suspected insertions, or a single dubious statements) still, he’d remained most insistent on his suppositions.

The more everything appeared to be above board, the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach prodded Lamont to dig deeper, to investigate all avenues, even the seemingly innocuous ones, to expose what, at present, stubbornly escaped all notice.

 “Some elusive, incriminating thread would eventually link things up.  His hunches had not failed him thus far and it was inconceivable that they would do so now.”

04- CHIEF INSPECTOR YORI

 In truth he’d been rather fond of Yori, as much as he could be of any subordinate.

Despite any proof, on a mere suspicion, Yori's life had been expediently forfeited, so coldly that, even now, the Prime Minister shuddered when he thought about it.

“But it couldn't be helped.”

 Lamont’d dreaded losing him but no sooner, unbidden; names of several possible successors had come to mind.  There was no shortage of competent men to replace him with.

Lamont clenched his fists and angrily turned his eyes away from the gingko tree to follow the tall intertwining hedges that skirted a winding pathway which snaked behind a man-made mountain. Going over, he quickly signed the other document he’d set aside. “There, it was done. Yori replacement would be Halsten Stig”

He stroked his beard, suddenly saddened by the thought of what must inevitably follow.

 Perhaps that fool Lenny had inadvertently, without malice, unleashed this series of events; but the Prime Minister still held him partially to blame.  Why couldn't he have been straight with Yori?  The proof of Yori's innocence had been obtained long after his accidental death.  All that could be done had been done for his wife and surviving child, to ease Lamont's conscience, and the financial burden was added to Lenny Sukzor's still unsettled account.

 Why should the Under Secretary be spared from the consequences of his actions?  All because, when Yori had asked to receive the statement of account of Lenny's losses, the missing gold had been purposefully withheld from the list.  Lenny had remained apprehensive about the idle gossip that could flame the belief that he had instigated arson himself to keep both his integrity and the gold.

“So, he feared above all that his impeccable, precious reputation should be tarnished.” Lamont disdainfully pursed his lips, reflecting on how the Undersecretary’s arrogance, for such a trifle, had wasted a good man's life. That, however, had been the one weakness that had rendered Lenny Sukzor vulnerable to him and at the same time, landed them both in deeper trouble.  At least that was what he had allowed the seeming consequence (upshot), to be generally known.  Fortunately, he had been awakened to the underhanded ploy of his nemesis who, also perceiving this weakness in Lenny; he had no doubt engineered the theft of the gold, not just to discredit the Under Secretary, but also to snare the Prime Minister as well, once Lamont had stuck out his neck for, in support of Lenny. And mistake number two; to extricate himself from this trouble, he had pushed his team to a more in-depth investigation into the case.

 

(END OF SECTION 4) 

Friday, 27 June 2025

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 25

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 25


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

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

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

01- MOURO KERR

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

02-HELGA

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

03- MASTER GUZO LUKO

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

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

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

 

(END OF SECTION 25)

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