13- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE UNEXPECTED VISITOR - SECTION 1

Far from the political hub of Channing where incredible events were transpiring, beyond the remotest border province of Zhincho, near the summit of the towering snowcapped mountains, in a concealed location under the dense canopy of the forest, cohabiting a wooden cabin, Lord Asger (Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon, Stark) and Tekuob had been living their days in accordance with the proprieties of a father and daughter, in relative harmony. Each day’s routine much the same they kept up the hopeful anticipation of soon receiving the positive news from Prince Nevetsecnuac.

01A - LORD ASGER THUXUR MARROG ZHON AND TEQUOB  (60)J JP

Time passed swiftly with days blending into weeks and weeks into months, though despite Lord Asger’s growing impatience, his hopes of one day being called to arms having never wavered, whenever he could get away and in whatever time he could spare, he kept up with his vigilant martial exercises and edifying (improving) his theoretical, tactical military expertise (proficiency). 

Oftentimes for diversity giving in to Tekuob’s persistence, he routinely (habitually) instructed her on the (mostly defensive) martial arts. Subsequently, with inner pride he watched her day after day, by degrees blending the imparted techniques with her own innate skills to develop her own varied manifold fighting style and thence, becoming a very proficient archer and, with her incredible prowess, wielding a deadly sword.

02A- TEKUOB AND ASGER PRACTICE FIGHTING  (8)jp

But with the passage of even more time, it became increasingly more difficult for Asger (Stark) to maintain his optimism; fearing the worse, he grew impatient with creeping inner resentment, at being (stranded) bound here at the mountain where he could lend no useful assistance to his (first) priority.

What if some harm had already befallen Nevetsecnuac? Consequently then, in all this time he would have lived in vain, guilty of being derelict in his crucial obligation and breaking the oath (covenant) to his maternal uncle, Prince Shon (7^th Prince Shon Alric Therran valamir). On the other hand, he was also bound by the oath to Nevetsecnuac, the oath of taking diligent care of his wife and children. Therefore, competent as Tekuob was, he could not, in good conscience, leave her behind to seek out any news of Nevetsecnuac, nor could he bring her and the twins along with him on such a, perilous, fact-finding mission.

Lord Asger Zhon, duty-bound yet constrained, had often fretted thus, at the conclusion of each day, at those solitary moments before retiring.

02B- LORD ASGER THUXUR MARROG ZHON (167) JP

At dawn with iron determination, he regularly resurrected the hope in his heart and directed his full attention instead, to the preservation (protection, safeguarding) and nurturing (educating) Nevetsecnuac’s beloved wife Tekuob and his identical twins Alric Svein and Lueling. As it were, in all this time Tekuob had borne so many hardships stoically that she had earned (besides his fatherly love,) his lasting admiration; meanwhile, her increasing proficiency in wielding the sword gave Asger some solace, for if nothing else, he was arming her to defend herself during his absence of periodic hunting treks, where which he provided the nutritionally requisite supplement, the meat, for especially, his growing niece and nephew.

Asger’s heart, meanwhile, had secretly ached noting her terrible longing for her beloved husband, even though she had often admirably, filled her days and her every waking moment, with caring for her children, chores, study, and martial exercises, so that at dusk her energies utterly spent, left little room for her to worry. This sort of deterrence, however, could only work so far; naturally, in the continued absence of any news, it became increasingly more difficult for her to conceal her mounting (rising) inner melancholy while maintaining her outwardly hopeful facade. Since nothing escaped Asger’s (Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon’s) notice, and he had also, excellent hearing, it aggrieved him knowing that in the small hours of the night, Tekuob had often quietly shed tears until sleep overtook her. But even then, the fears and the terrible ordeals of her childhood and the demons from her past manifesting vengefully in her sleep and fueling the persistent nightmares, robbed her of scant tranquil respite; thence, she would often wake with a start drenched in the cold pearls of perspiration and then pace the room to and for till dawn broke.

This naturally concerned Asger, fearing that her obvious sleep deprivation and her suppressed (bottled up) emotions might one day acutely harm her mental and physical state. He unfortunately could do little besides (despite) his subtle counsel and the nightly concoctions (curatives) he prescribed to get her to relax and, she still slept badly or not at all.

03- TWINS, ALRIC SVEIN  AND LUELING, ARE HANDFUL TO MANAGE

In daylight hours she fared better, during which time Tequob was far too (busy) preoccupied with routine chores, training and tending to her toddlers, who were with all that boundless energy, was a handful to manage. And those creative interaction with the very inventive and rambunctious twins, added to Asger’s diversionary tactics and subtle teachings of meditative techniques, which Tequob in time had embraced, kept all three resilient and healthy.

                                                                                          ~

One stormy night when gale (tempestuous) winds, thunder, and lightning yet again robbed Tekuob of any sleep, she decided on adapting another of Asger’s suggestions; thus, rising from her bed and then going over to her dresser, she quietly fetched a writing brush, ink and the small hand bound book, a journal, bypassing however the ivory-colored silk bundle (a scroll roll which she used for artistic expressions, such as drawing), which Asger had given her not too long ago to do with as she pleased.  This was the most encouraging sign of all as she, after a momentary hesitation, opened the journal (personal diary) to the first page and began in steady succession, writing down (scripting) her sundry private thoughts and concerns she would never outwardly speak, addressing them alternatively to Nevetsecnuac or, to her toddler son Svein and daughter Lueling. On subsequent nights, this routine confidential mental exercise (provided) had afforded her the much-needed emancipating succor (relief), until her anticipated reunion with her beloved Nevetsecnuac. She had remained thus, most grateful to Asger for his suggestion, as well, his unwavering patience and sensitivity.

In truth, Lord Asger’s countless, subtle attributes, so rare in a man, as time went by had endeared him even more to Tekuob. With all her heart (and soul), she felt indebted to His Lordship for his generous and accommodating ways and the fact that he had always shown her such forbearance. His loyal, warrior soul, heart, and mind, she knew, would always be with Prince Nevetsecnuac, as it should be, yet he had borne the added responsibility for her and her children with such magnanimity. She understood full well how hard it must have been for Lord Asger to bear with her feminine eccentricities (oddities), living in such close quarters; yet he had remained most upstanding (virtuous) and astoundingly (remarkably) tolerant of her vacillating moods, quirks, and foibles.

04- TEQUOB WRITES IN HER JOURNAL ABOUT LORD ASGER ZHON  (61)JP

Eternally grateful, she had once written to Nevetsecnuac, “I’ve never experienced such broadmindedness (no judgement or criticism) and tender care even from my own kin; as soon as the opportunity avails itself, I shall do my utmost, to accomplish a meritorious act, to repay a small portion of a huge debt I owe him.” “Heaven has blessed us, allowing Lord Asger to be an integral part of our life. We can all learn so much from such an honorable being, with incredible courage, moral rectitude, compassion, and loyalty.” Another time she had counseled young Svein and Lueling in her private diary (journal, memoir).

“Regardless of your future fates’ outcome, you must never waver (falter) in your courage and resolve; always emulate (the ways of) Lord Asger and, as your father before you have done, honor him and pay (strict) heed to all his invaluable teachings.” Subsequently, recounting succinctly, most recent (four) set of events about Lord Asger’s heroism, particularly the one about rescuing the toddler twins from the jaws of death, she had on yet another time, with this heartfelt statement, concluded that night’s entry. “Despite the overwhelming obstacles fate has (waylaid) thrown in his path, never once has His Lordship Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon ever deflected from his true purpose. He has stoically sacrificed so much and endured much more than any man would bear; therefore, this heroic warrior deserves our utmost gratitude (which can never be re-paid, not in the brief span of just one lifetime) and high esteem.”   Often, in her diary (journal) she imparted Nevetsecnuac, the exciting current events and Svein and Lueling’s growing progress, as well, their lovable characteristics and periodically, surprising, and most hilarious (amusing, humorous) adventures. Thus (Hence) in her heart, she had found the means to bridge the great distance (gap) that separated Nevetsecnuac from them.

05- TEQUOB WRITES IN HER JOURNAL, TO HER BELOVED NEVETSECNUAC

                                           ~                                         

 

Time passed quickly; but few days before Nevetsecnuac’s decisive combat with the villainous Emperor Zakhertan  Yozdek, when Nevetsecnuac was deliberately poisoned by an invisible prong (spike) hidden in one of the facets (module) of a jeweled cuff clasp on the jacket ( part of a keepsake tribute gift from the Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren’s offices, a traditional/ceremonial court attire, a garb, that had actually been tampered with the deadly, rare poison, by a Black Molochs’s agent, as part of Dark Eunuch Egil Viggoaries’s dastardly scheme), and therefore, Nevetsecnuac’s life was perilously at death’s door, on that date, all day long try as she might, Tekuob could not conceal her overwhelming feeling of restlessness and, same time, the disconsolate (gloomy) mood that had gripped her soul.

All matters vexed (irked) her; she was uncharacteristically incensed (angry) by the children’s rambunctiousness (boisterousness), at the howling winds outside, her chores did not go as well as she had hoped, a wild animal the night before had rampaged the vegetable garden, the windowpane in her bedroom had developed a small crack that needed an immediate repair. When the meal she had labored for the greater part of the morning burnt, she felt utterly dismayed and hiding in her room for an hour; she cried inconsolably.

Shortly afterwards, however, Tekuob, with admirable (reserve) willpower had suppressed her inner turmoil, dried her eyes, and emerged from her bedroom. The next two days, she continued to redirect (channel, convert) this persistent unease and the consequent restless energy towards completing the necessary tasks: which besides her routine chores, included patching (fixing) the crack in the windowpane (opting not to bother Lord Asger with such trifle), rescuing some of the plants and re-organizing the vegetable patch and cooking preserves (jams, jellies, conserves).

06- LORD ASGER ZHON GONE ON HUNTING TRIP (128)JP

Fortunately, Lord Zhon had been absent from the premise (vicinity), having departed shortly before dawn on an essential hunt. Armed with sword, bow, and arrows, he had descended from the mountain (high elevation on foot); and, Tequob knew, he would then venture into the dense forest’s perilous depths (thick foliage) to supply (provide) them with fresh game.

All this while, Tequob had been incessantly, fighting to supress her inner demons; on the third day her agitated state had unfortunately reached an apex point.  Nevertheless, by the time Asger had returned (that very afternoon) earlier than expected with a week’s worth of bounty, she had mastered her wayward (recalcitrant) emotions, and everything on the surface appeared placid and ordinary.

Later still, after the three had a nourishing midday meal Tekuob, as part of the daily routine, put the children to bed for an afternoon nap (cat nap, siesta) then settled herself at her desk to commence her studies of the classics and reading up on Wenjenkun’s history. Try as she might, however, she could not concentrate her thoughts (direct her undivided attention) on the lessons at hand. Her exasperated mind, in defiance of her will, kept straying onto diverse topics, majority being, unpleasant.

“What is the matter with me today?” Finally, putting the book down, she demurred. “Why is my mind in such perplexing bedlam (confounding mayhem)?”

In his seated position, though he was engrossed in what he was reading, sensing her irritation, Lord Asger abruptly looked up and subtly scrutinized (studied) her.

07- LORD ASGER THUXUR MARROG ZHON (168)jp

In that instance, Lord Asger’s perfunctory (fleeting) observation had told him there had been an assiduous (perpetual) serious concern praying on her mind; however, not wishing to intrude (as she will inform him when ready) he instead gave an indulgent smile and then, without a single word, reverted his undivided attention back to the ancient manuscripts and the amassed (summative) revisions of the time-honored war stratagems.

In truth, he too without cause since dawn, had felt intensely perturbed, but upon his return he had pushed it aside, relieved to see that (in their humble habitat) all was as it should be. Soon the toddler twins Alric and Lueling will be waking up from their afternoon siesta and they, being particularly lively and spirited (not unlike Nevetsecnuac at the same age), yet still too young for the implementation of strict discipline, Asger remained reluctant to disrupt the current peaceful repose, which was an integral part of their midday revitalization routine. As it were, despite his strong stamina, Asger had endured a particularly grueling morning, condensing weeks’ worth of hunting into just few (three) days, for he dared not be absent from them too long. Unfortunately, the quiet (silence) he had craved, did not last for too long.

Tekuob’s attention having again strayed from her studies, after a thoughtful pause, she abruptly looked up and then, begging Lord Asger’s pardon, started to say something that seemed imperative (most urgent), when suddenly at that fateful moment, back at Channing Nevetsecnuac’s life was in sure peril, Tekuob’s words in mid-sentence abruptly froze on her tongue and she, as if in dire agony clasped her hand over her heart. Consequently, overcome by the brusque, overwhelming feeling of deep dismay, plus the excruciating pain that had just then gripped her soul, her lovely face became ghostly ashen (pallid, pasty white).

That same instance, Asger had pricked his finger by the splinter jutting from the vintage (ancient) tome’s leather-bound spine casing (sheath, jacket), drawing blood; nevertheless, disregarding this, he rushed to inquire, “Are you all right, my child?” 

Tekuob at first had remained unresponsive, but then, with glazed eyes and, her face bearing the tragic look of a soul plunged into the abysmal depths of misery, she looked up at Lord Asger. When tears threatened to manifest, it was all she could do, but to turn her head away.

“Nevetsecnuac!” A stifled groan (moan, grunt) escaped from Lord Asger’s lips as the inexplicable fear and dread had just then gripped his pulsating, loyal heart.

The toddlers, who were just moments before peacefully asleep in the adjacent room, suddenly burst into loud wailings, as if startled-awake by a terrible nightmare.

 

                                                                                    ~

 

(END OF SECTION 1)

 11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 20

Here is a succinct explanation as to what really happened Stuart Chutek, far from the Capital Channing:

On route to Lord Tonzeye Yevgun in Chukset Province, Stuart Chutek’s journey was hindered by tumultuous rains, which had made the major highway and most of the alternate roads, virtually impassable (obstructed or treacherous); therefore, he had stayed for the additional two days at a modest Inn near the Nexoko Pass.

01 B- STEWART CHUTEK TRAVELLING- JP

On the second night, during a private repast with a very friendly merchant and his bookish assistant also on route to Chukset Province, he had been quietly drugged however, then robbed of his possessions. The still unconscious Stuart Chutek was then quietly taken out the back door, carried to the edge of a very high precipice by these clearly ruthless Wolfbane Brotherhood agents, then unmercifully dumped over the cliff’s edge- with the immediate danger extant (existent) from shards of rocks protruding from the periphery-into the deep, forested gully (ravine, gorge) that had a fast flowing river with tumultuous waves and currents, carving a snaking course through it (the canyon) at the very base.

The turbulent and foamy waves of the river had carried Chutek for a time, his head bopping (trouncing) in and out, every so often barely visible, amidst the rushing waters that carved a violent path across the ravine and then eventually cascaded over a spectacular waterfall thousands of meters down, which was picturesque, though very lethal.

Logically, anyone in Chutek’s predicament would have indubitably perished; nevertheless, the capricious (unpredictable, variable) fate had deemed that Chutek, even though he had scant chance to survive, would miraculously triumph over this certain catastrophe.

02- STEWART CHUTEK  (5)

Alas, as Chutek was swept along by the rapid currents of the river, racing alongside the tree stems (stalks, trunks, heavy branches) and, consequently, his head often crushing into or colliding with these floating (racing) wooden debris- he inexorably (unavoidably) was fated to suffer a future syndrome (disorder) of permanent amnesia (memory loss). Furthermore, Chutek ‘s mien (appearance), his once beautiful visage was also irrevocably (altered) marred by the three unforgiving deep lacerations (slashes, gushes) across his face. And so, his ordeal had transformed him from being strikingly handsome to just being plainly ordinary, if not an ugly lad (guy, chap). Then again, it was a deliberate feat (deed) of destiny, or a blessing from Heaven, for Chutek thereafter would remain aptly anonymous and fortunately, be well hidden (concealed) from those that would still seek to harm him.

Chutek was eventually washed ashore to the gravelly (pebbly) beach, and discovered by a recluse, aged warrior that bore physical scars on his body all over, which told of a once violent past. Halvar Gosta was his name, and two decades ago he had permanently turned his back to that way of life, deliberately forsaking all trappings of civilization and any human habitations (settlements).

Halvar Gosta, once a mighty warrior, he had back then been pushed to the brink of insanity; thus, a bedlam (turmoil, conflict, bout), instigated by an unforgivable past trauma, at the ramparts (parapets) of the heavily armed fortresses guarding Eastern far frontier of Wenjenkun, had resulted in an unavoidable two hundred pugilists (combatants, squaddies), one high official and four officers’ fatalities, as they had tried to contain him. Nevertheless, escaping the clutches of the law, he had made good his escape; however, from then on deemed a rebel, overnight he had become a wanted criminal with a hefty bounty (reward) on his head.

Halvar’s unyielding will to persevere had eventually cast him to this faraway (outlying,) corner, where which the hostile terrain (territory) demanded constant vigilance just to survive. Absconded (fled, settled) to this high altitude remote mountainous region (at the northwestern sector of the Konourek Province of Wenjenkun Empire) where all but the hardiest of souls could have persisted, and by existing (subsisting) in this arduous though natural environment, incessantly battling the harsh climate and the abundant, voracious, roaming predatory beasts (that lacked the guile, treachery and duplicity of humans)- he’d gradually (by degrees) tempered his core explosive (volatile) fury (ferocity) and reclaimed his sanity (lucidity, reason). Thereafter, he had lived the reminder of his solitary days in (mundane) routine subsistence and in equitable (relative) peace. He hunted game or periodically indulged in fishing trips, for variance and to survive.

But then again, his lot (destiny, luck) perpetually dogged by erratic (random, unpredictable) providence (divine intervention), once while pursuing a game, he had fallen into a deep chasm and lost consciousness; when he came to, he found himself encountering a most venomous snake, ready to strike him. Halvar’s strong grip had promptly sent (dispatched) the serpent to the netherworld, but not before the serpent’s fangs had targeted his calf (shin, lower leg).

 

03   HALVAR (11)B -JP

The venomous bite would have finished him off for good had it not been for the woman who had happened to be at nearby vicinity, quietly and unseen, gathering rare medicinal herbs on the very mountain.

She at once had acted decisively to save his life. He had learned of this later, that she had first successfully drew out the poison from the two puncher wounds of the viper; then, she had carefully applied herbal poultices to the area. Subsequently, she had torn strips from her oversize shirt and carefully bandaged the wound. The next step had been the hardest to undertake (accomplish, achieve, complete), as she with some difficulty, got him out of the deep chasm, then hauled (towed, dragged, pulled) his massive muscular (athletic, robust), fit form, with dogged persistence, till they reached the safety of her well-concealed (by the runners, ivy), sturdy wooden cabin that had been built long ago by her now deceased warrior father.

Subsequent days, despite her diligent care, the stranger had been delirious, his soul and physical body thrashing about, racked (beset, tormented) with fighting personal demons and dangerously high fever. She with her strong determination, had patiently however, brought him back from the edge of death, with her ancient herbal remedies and medicinal poultices that had been passed down to her.

On the fifth day, his fever had finally broken (subsided), and he had slowly regained his full conscience (senses); that morning waking at dawn, though groggily (dizzy and weak), he had at first lain perfectly still, with his eyelids closed willing agility and strength to his limbs and trying to make sense of his present circumstance. When he opened his eyelids again, this time his patient, stealth gaze had at first briefly rested on his bandages, then perused (scrutinized, surveyed) the immaculate (spotless, clean) and orderly interior of a sparsely furnished wooden, logged cabin:

 His eyes stayed for a time on the remarkable warrior’s shield (armor) with an unusual crest (emblem symbol) on it, the like of which he had never seen and next, rested on the adjacent (nearby), a clearly magnificent, sheathed sword with jewelled hilt (handle), mounted on the far wall. There were also bundles of strange herbs hung low from the ceiling, infusing (pervading) the interior air with their varied fragrances, some of it being positively intoxicating. On a two-tear shelf, besides the window with shutters, rested six glass jars of herbs and 8 jars of what looked to be preserved mushrooms or fruits.

It was then that he acutely became aware (also realized) that he was resting on the only bed in the room. His soft regard (respectful stare) next affixed on presumed saviour’s back, he watched her carefully for a time as she tended the fire in the hearth (central fireplace). Then, while Halvar surreptitiously (quietly) observed her practical, methodical efforts (actions, movements), he inwardly queried, amazed at the small, framed female, who clearly was alone, having so managed to extricate (rescue) him from the deep gulch (gulley, pothole), drag him, for presumed inconceivable distance (length), till they reached the safety of her bungalow (abode) in the woods. He was same time quietly perturbed that another human being had lived/survived on this mountain without him ever detecting her presence. Typical mountainous region overall was an unforgiving place; death stalked the weak, with prevalent dangers abound, not only from elements but from myriad creatures and predatory beasts.

He was curious to learn if the shield and sword belonged to her or another; more importantly, how long and what kind of reason propelled her to live in this harsh environment?

Norna, just then detecting a slight variance in his breathing (also, his slight stirring), therefore, knowing that he was fully awake, in an unhurried manner then had half turned and enigmatically smiled at him with that broad grin; she then nodded, and rising to her feet and turning to face him fully, exclaimed: Its good, you’ll live.

04 B- NORNA - JP

Delightfully then, she had introduced herself as Norna (purposely leaving out her surname) and then quietly asked after his name. He parted his lips to comply (speak) but then suddenly became aware that his throat was terribly parched (thirsty); wincing, and with difficulty he had then propped himself up to a sitting position. Before he could ask her for it, however, anticipating his need she had hastened with the tepid (lukewarm) cup of water, then cautioned him to take it slow.

He had gratefully drunk his fill, and then introduced himself as simply Halvar, taking his cue from her and leaving out his surname. He next with deep gratitude evident in his voice, had thanked her for saving his life and then stated that he was now, forever, indebted to her. Subsequently, noticing her bedding all rolled up, and tugged at the corner of the hearth, he, lowering his gaze had expressed his shame and guilt at occupying her bed, while she slept on the floor. She had dismissed this so sweetly with the wave of her hand, that for the first time ever tiny crack had appeared in his icy heart, threatening to thaw it, and edit (revise) his forever hardened resolve, his (antipathy) utter aversion of all human beings.

Later still she had helped him drink (ingest) a particularly nutritious warm broth, till colour returned to his cheeks. Halvar upon his inquiry, had learned then that she had once lived with her warrior father and that the sword and shield bearing their family’s crest had belonged to her now deceased father Jarle. She had fallen silent for a time and noting her reluctance to speak any further on this, he had let it pass.

05- JARLE (WARRIOR, FATHER OF NORNA)2

Later still, nights being long, as each sipped from clay cups the freshly brewed hot tea, a sort of soothing herbal concoction that would enable one to sleep soundly, it was then that she desisting tears (though it was evident in her face that her grief was still fresh), in a choking voice told him, that she lived alone and had done so, since the sudden, tragic demise of her beloved father Jarle.

Three winters past, on a particularly tempestuous day, a sudden snowstorm had blanketed the mountain by several inches of pristine white, reducing visibility to virtual nil; her father Jarle returning home from a hunt and being caught in this, had furthermore, suffered a fall into a deep chasm which had also trapped a voracious (ravenous) predatory beast. She did not need to finish the narration (account, story), as Halvar with certain understanding nodded his head. He had clearly understood that warrior Jarle consequently had been mauled to death and then mostly, if not entirely eaten (bone and flesh) by the ravenous beast, by the time she had tracked her father’s whereabouts. Halvar had surreptitiously looked at her brief time later, with sympathy gripping his heart, understanding the grizzly discovery of Jarle that still to date, hunted her peace.

Following days as Norna slowly and diligently had nursed him back to sound (fit, good) health, anticipating his every need and providing it without being asked; during this period Halvar, nevertheless, became impatient at being idle, wanting to at least in part, by doing specific errands or repairs, to repay her kindness to him. Understanding this need, she tasked him with minor chores that entailed (required) certain skill but did not necessitate sturdy (robust) strength or vigorous agility.

06 HALVAR (8)

Subsequently, quietly observing her ways, Halvar was utterly drawn by her natural beauty and her quiet grace, but more importantly, by her agility and utter competence in stoically handling (dealing) as she did, the daunting (intimidating), demanding chores, errands (undertakings) vital (essential) for survival in this remote wilderness. More remarkable still, she did all that while preserving (keeping intact) her innate sweet nature and her compassionate, loving heart. Trying not to stare into those captivating, blue eyes, for she was clearly abashed (embarrassed); he quietly appreciated her characteristic (natural), remarkable resilience, high intelligence, and at times dumbfounding physical strength, despite her frail frame. By now, he had insisted on sleeping on the ground while she again rested at night on her bed.

He did not know it then, but gradually, by degrees, as he convalesced physically and mentally, recovering increasingly more his prior robust capacities, he began doing more strenuous tasks and providing regular meat and for variety, sometimes fish (like salmon), with his frequent hunting trips. Meanwhile, he was gradually being besotted (enamored) by this incredible woman that took his breath away each time their eyes accidentally met, or, when she smiled at him.

He did not return to his cabin for a long time; her place being sturdier, more welcoming and more practical than his, and when he did, he was aghast to see that while he was away, a lightening strike had totally (decimated, destroyed) incinerated, his cabin and the immediate periphery (margin, vicinity) to ash. He would have expired, if not severely burned, had he been staying at his (hastily constructed) cabin during this catastrophe. He understood then that Norna had brought him luck and, also for the second time, had saved his life. With a totally thawed heart (ice completely gone- as the trust in another permanently taken root in his heart), now definitely infatuated and almost fanatical in his devotion to her, he returned to live with her, this time permanently.

And so, the two unlikely persons, begun their slow, patient journey towards becoming a habitual (usual) blissful pair, with a consistent tender moments of family, nourished by the quintessential feelings of laughter, deep affection, care, joy, passion, trust, filial loyalty- all wrapped up in the precious bundle of eternal love.

The once disillusioned warrior Halvar had never anticipated (expected) to have a second chance at happiness, furthermore, to encounter another solitary individual, a beautiful, remarkable woman, that eventually became his everlasting soulmate partner (wife). Their frequent, enthusiastic union had blessedly in time, produced his beloved, beautiful daughter Clara who had her mother’s eyes. She was also an accomplished healer, same as her mother once been.

07- CLARA (NARNA AND HALVAR'S DAUGTER)  JP2

After the loss of his beloved wife to fever, three winters past, Clara now seventeen, she often gathered herbs from the mountain gradient; furthermore, it kept her mind occupied and from wondering what lay beyond the mountain. Halvar was very protective of his daughter, though he, not wishing to stifle her innate nature (and her creativity), learned to be patient and tolerant of her often, wayward ways. Then happened another addition to their sturdy abode (home).

One invigorating (brisk) morning, when the first rays of dawn reached earth, Halvar had quietly exited his wooden cabin (humble abode); then, with quick sure steps he had descended down from the mountain, armed with his fishing-gear (and also, his fishing spear), and quickly reached his favorite spot along the rocky shoreline of the tumultuous (fast flowing) river. But then, as he was about to cast his line, his ears had just then detected a barely audible low groan of pain, and so, he had spotted Chutek’s battered and bruised, barely alive body sprawled over the gravelly-sand, half hidden in the thickets, and from then on, his way of life had altered irrevocably.

Would Alvar have tolerated and allowed the rescued being to live with them, one wonders, if he was not a eunuch?

 The young man, rescued from the clutches of death by Halvar and nursed back to health by lovely Clara, then renamed in a quiet ceremony Randolf, fit in perfectly within the range of their blissful coexistence and so, in the end Chutek had lived happily ever after, away from the trials and tribulations of the civilized world.

08- HALVAR - RANDOLF(CHUTEK) AND CLARA

                                                                                               ~

 

(END OF SECTION 20) 

 11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 6

Subsequently, long after his firstborn's ignominious death, Zakhertan had thoroughly investigated all happenstances from varied perspectives and scrutinized even the remotest incidents (episodes) that could have given rise to his son’s shocking defiance; meanwhile, seeking any explanation to forgive his son and to absolve himself from least blame. He had even considered the possibility that his beloved son had gone temporarily insane, had suffered a medical mental affliction (episode) or injury that had resulted in his irrational, deplorable behavior.

Nevertheless, Qijerrik consequent unfilial breach could not be minimized (disputed) or denied; after considering this at present once more, Zakhertan shook his head and again hardened his heart. Qijerrik when captured and brought in chains before him (Zakhertan) to account for his crimes, though altered in personality, had been perfectly resolute and of sound mind. Zakhertan recalled with perfect clarity each nuance and subtlety of affectation, moreover, every brazen discord (articulated dissent) of that day when Qijerrik stood adamantly defiant despite his obvious grave injuries.

01- -QIJERRIK YOZDEK IN CHAINS

 Zakhertan gritted his teeth while the muscles on his face went taut (rigid, tense, tightened), just as it had done then, his heart in the throes of extreme emotional turmoil- observing (witnessing) his son’s  stoic bravely, hearing his son’s defiant responses to his culpable (accusatory), damning analyses and sadistic demands, never giving an inch, shackled and seriously wounded as he were beneath his armour (breastplate, chainmail), result of his prior gallant skirmish with the elite force!

Incredibly, even after all this time, despite all that had passed (transpired), Zakhertan still held deep affection for his firstborn son and he still yearned deep within the crevices of his soul, to have Qijerrik standing by him, as he had once done. Zakhertan had given him the single, unheard of until then, chance to repent, to explain his actions and to beg absolution from him (his Sovereign father). Though, Zakhertan had known all too well, that the offer of leniency was wasted on the son after his own heart. Predictably, Qijerrik had remained unrelenting and defiant until the bitter- end.

"I gladly welcome death (be freed by death) and decent into the debts of Hell than intake another breath and persist (live) under the noxious grid (net) of your tyrannical rule!"

 Those caustic words, then to present, were forever etched in (scarred, burned in) Zakhertan Yozdek’s heart and still pained him. At the time seeing red (enraged), Zakhertan’s fury had just exploded.

"Your death shall not come that easy."  In a blinding rage (not seeing his son), he had descended upon the insolent, shackled prisoner and, drawing his sword severed, in lightning strike, Qijerrik’s right arm above the elbow; but with incredible self-control he had stayed his blade, desisting the urge of cutting Qijerrik’s throat and in a sweeping motion amputating both of his (son’s) legs above the knee.  

02-ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (68)

Qijerrik for a moment or two had fought hard to remain conscious as the stump of his severed arm, the severed artery, sprayed blood all over Zakhertan’s chest and on the guards who flanked him. Nevertheless, fuelled by indignation, for he possessed the same fiery temperament as Zakhertan, Qijerrik’s voice thence, thundered with his wrathful curses directed at his father, till his strength gradually but assuredly waned.

Zakhertan, his fury only satiated by the spilling of blood, consequently, in lightening speed sheathing his sword and then simultaneously withdrawing his dagger from his inner garment, grabbed the tongue of his son and cut out the offensive organ at the root.

His son, by this act, would be silenced forever, so he had thought. But those eyes, those hateful, burrowing eyes spoke louder than any battle cry. The look had extricated (wrenched) Zakhertan’s soul out from his body, then inexplicably plunged (plummeted, drawn) into the debts of those blazing blue eyes of Qijerrik’s; Zakhertan thus helplessly mesmerized, held captive (caged) by the force of it, had endured Qijerrik’s heaped on silent recriminations-making Zakhertan feel like an abhorred monster and worse, making him suffer (experience) the effects of his actions had had on others.

Zakhertan could have well tolerated (stomached, endured) all blame and that penetrating glare of loathing; but then his son’s eyes had unexpectedly softened and had insufferably next, got suffused with a deep, profound pity for Zakhertan, before Qijerrik succumbed to loss of blood and his eyelids dropped! That did it!

At that moment, unbridled fury had again exploded in Zakhertan for, “how dare his son, so abjectly pity him?”  Anew his heart turned to stone; Zakhertan had barked his orders to the guards to get the traitor Qijerrik out of his sight at once. His death, however, would not be so swift.

03- INFURIATED ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (16) JP

The guards understanding Zakhertan’s unspoken command, had hauled Prince Qijerrik to the darkest of dungeons, had his wounds cauterized, and then had the prince chained to the far wall. Once a day Qijerrik was force-fed to keep him alive, for Zakhertan still demanded repentance from his son and if necessary, it would be extracted by torture. Subsequent days, the rebellious forces bereft of his leadership, had been one by one, swiftly, and methodically rooted out and vanquished; and in less than two months every whimper of rebellion had been crushed.  

Every generation of Scholars’ families down to the extended members, servants, associates as well as, all other suspected sympathizers were one and all, rounded up and publicly executed throughout the Kingdom. Many villages and rural towns which had lent support to the Scholar rebels had been raised, incinerated and every life within them snuffed out of existence. Their severed, blood-soaked heads were hoisted on pikes over city gates or in village squares where the eyes were picked clean by crows and the empty sockets formed nests for maggots. Left there indefinitely to rot and stink, they served as a grim reminder, a deterrent, and a warning to all dissidents.  

Each day for well over a month, Prince Qijerrik chained and immobile, had spent long, agonizing hours, being kept appraised of the most recent atrocious and ghastly reprisals exacted (meted out) on his once compatriots.  

 Zakhertan had hoped that the self-recrimination alone, at all the suffering Prince had caused, would force Qijerrik to see the error of his ways and beg, by whatever means he could, Zakhertan's forgiveness. Only then swift death would be bestowed on the prince, along with the granting of full funerary rights. The alternative, Zakhertan let Qijerrik know, was to be kept in the dungeon indefinitely, to undergo sporadic tortures then be left to rot until his corpse would be tossed into the moat below like that of a common criminal. Qijerrik, defiant to the end, had, however still found a way to cheat Zakhertan of the pleasure of his demise (death). At the beginning of the second month of his incarceration, after eating normally for two days to build his strength and lull the guard's suspicions, he had taken advantage of the brief period when the shift changed and, gathering all his bodily strength, had swung his skull backwards with all his force against the wall he was shackled to.  Prince Qijerrik had always been a stalwart (strapping) young man and even in this weakened state, it had taken only one attempt to shatter his skull and therefore end his existence.

Both shifts of guards, finding out what had happened and fearing Zakhertan’s wrath, fell upon their swords and immediately ended their life. The news of his son's suicide had at first infuriated Zakhertan Yozdek, but the more he thought about it, the more he admired his son's resolve and courage despite himself. Though misguided, his son’s stubborn defiance right up to the end had earned Qijerrik, Zakhertan’s lasting esteem and deep eternal love, for being such a true warrior. Breaking his own rule of law, Zakhertan had taken Qijerrik’s remains and had them buried beside those of his mother Lady Elin, in the Royal Tombs; however, the corpse of Prince Qijerrik still received no funerary rites.

04-ZAKHERTAN YOZDEK 78

Zakhertan’s heart from then on had grown even colder still, for he had after all, lost the only person who had mattered to him in life. He had since then been, figuratively speaking, dead to the world. He had allowed himself no attachments and had taken solace only in wars, with murder and mayhem (pandemonium, havoc) being his constant companions; however, none of that had satiated his voracious, predatory soul’s gripe (or lament). His heart, already turned to chunk of ice and caged in an iron chest, had only last year, though hesitantly, had begun to thaw. Zakhertan’s thoughts at present reluctantly turned to Crown Prince Herleif, he speculated whether he had unfairly shunned his second son, born three years after Qijerrik to the same mother Lady Elin.

The two Princes could not have been more different. Prince Herleif was so vastly inferior to the firstborn, that it was hard for Zakhertan to believe Qijerrik shared the (same chromosome, gene pool,) same gene (genetic factor, DNA, RNA) with such a sorry specimen. Lately however, Zakhertan’s feelings about Herleif had been mixed and his heart at times had been tinged with small measure of guilt, for he knew deep down in the crux of his conscience being that he was partly to be blamed for those ill-gotten results. Hadn't he after all desired this outcome in Herleif, this weakling, the bane of his life, and took corresponding (apt) measures all along to perpetuate it? Yes, over the years he had followed his son's failings and his sorry progress, assured that no danger would arise from him but, unlike Yoshikan Sousing Nokuzuk Binchan of Korion, Herleif had not faked his incompetence.

05- YOSHIKAN SOUSING NOKUZUK BINCHAN   (44)JP

Zakhertan thence (from that time on) having changed his mind had subjected his second son to rigorous (arduous) training; try as he might however, after numerous failings and some physical injuries, Prince Herleif had proven absolutely that he had no knack for civil or military calling. He was a dismal failure and a bitter disappointment for one such as Zakhertan Yozdek. Unlike his late elder brother Qijerrik, Prince Herleif was not agile enough, lacked zeal, lacked compassion and benevolence, lacked stamina, courage, wisdom, and skill. Even the most stringent, rigorous training that would have otherwise transformed an ordinary being into a semi-competent commander or an acceptable soldier (warrior), missed its mark in Herleif; he was, at best, a mediocre fighter, and a dismally incompetent supervisor. Nor was this his only failing, prince Herleif was miserly and lacked imagination and foresight; he had failed to apply his extensive schooling in strategy into practice and so was also a failure as a tactical commander in the field. Sovereign Zakhertan had learned this lesson at cost of thousands of good fighting men and a near loss of a province; fortunately, the timely intervention from Prince Herleif’s replacement, a much abler Commander Zifel, had rectified the situation and secured the province. Zakhertan had never been able to forgive his second son Herleif for this terrible blunder and disgrace. Even after his banishment to a remotest province as Governor, much more suffering had been readied for him. In fact, it was only due to the sudden demise of Zakhertan’s third son, Prince Kendar that Herleif's life had been spared at all.  

Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek robbed of any other adolescent male heirs, had reluctantly recalled (summoned) Prince Herleif back to the Capital Channing. This was of course a temporary measure, as Zakhertan had estimated that now Crown Prince Herleif might last just long enough till a pegged, more capable offspring was born to him (Zakhertan). For some time unfortunately, fate had denied Zakhertan this fundamental right; after the accidental death of Prince Turin Yozdek at the age of three (born to Lady Idona Yozdek), then the sudden demises at infancy of both the Prince Chucek (born to Lady Shayen Yozdek) and Prince Kureing (born to Lady Yinnis), Zakhertan had furtively next hung all his hopes on Prince Magnian, who’d fortunately had survived and was presently, five years old. Zakhertan fists had momentarily clenched then let go, as he had thought how opportunely, fate had given him one more chance to redeem his mistakes. This time he would take care not to repeat Qijerrik’s morose ending, Zakhertan inwardly vowed. He would, furthermore, ascertain that no undue or adverse influences be thrust upon Magnian in an unguarded moment and that, his training and education be far stricter and all encompassing. Though Prince Magnian was just five years old, he had been already showing signs of a great promise, much like Qijerrik.

06- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (91) AND LADY SEJON

Lady Sejon, as the mother of Prince Magnian, at present enjoyed Zakhertan’s special favors; she was after all, voluptuous, well endowed, beautiful young girl of twenty-two years of age, with honey-colored eyes and long, wavy, raven black hair. Besides being astute and quite ambitious, she was also the beloved niece of Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren; Zakhertan would therefore, tolerate her just a little while longer, while same time, keep an eye to make sure of curbing her influence. And then, Zakhertan grinned venomously, knowing the fate, regardless of circumstance, that awaited his lovely consort.

Zakhertan’s deliberations were interrupted just then by a cheerful chorus of chirps from the shallow pool in the garden outside his window. He absently watched, as the pair of songbirds drank, dipped their bodies into the water and then, flapped their wings to shake off the excess moisture. Zakhertan elucidated (interpreted) their ablutions (ritual cleansing) as a utilitarian exercise, much like the troops bathing after a long march (and before a victorious battle); turning, he glimpsed at the guard waiting woodenly all this time for his command.

"Very well, have him come in."   

The guard responded sharply and within seconds the expendable Crown Prince Herleif was ushered into the room.

 

                                                                                            ~

 

(END OF SECTION 6) 

 11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 5

    

Zakhertan, turning his attention back on the task at hand, glowered (looked daggers) at the fourth stack of documents on his desk needing his perusal, he impatiently tapped his fingers on the desk and hissed. “Always the same… “    

Reluctant to begin, Zakhertan with disdain briefly watched the dancing flames of the brazier as Neru typically feed them, before reflecting on Lenny Sukzor’s latest submitted report on the covert and highly illegal activities of Egil Viggoaries. The slight discrepancy between Lenny’s and the subsequent information tendered by Juyin, the lovely wife of Lenny Sukzor’s, on her husband's activities, caused Zakhertan to frown.

01- JUYIN SUKZOR (3)JP

 The two statements varied slightly on one minute detail; an irregularity so feeble that another in his stead might have entirely missed it. Should he be concerned with such a trivial contradiction (incongruity)? Was it an oversight? No! He must not leave anything, no matter how slight, to chance.    

Zakhertan’s mouth formed into a snarl as he drew another blank parchment before him and issued a set of specific orders to have the matter more thoroughly investigated.  

 “I’ll wait and see where this leads to,” Zakhertan briefly pondered, after which he quickly sealed the envelope, containing specific order, with his Imperial seal. A single logo (motif) drawn on the envelope and explicit sequence of numbers registered underneath, indicated the precise department and agent that it was to be handed to; this too was summarily put aside along with the rest in that growing pile.

Then there is still that other matter, Zakhertan Yozdek irritatedly drummed his fingers on the desk. No! There was no need to review it again. Why was he even debating that issue still?  

Such ambivalence angered him; the one thing he had always taken pride in was his decisiveness and exceptionally retentive memory. One glance at anything, any detail however insignificant or minute, and it would be permanently embedded in his mind. Now tapping that innate advantage, Zakhertan recalled with perfect clarity a certain trivial observation hidden in the report the Royal Courier had submitted upon the completion of his mission. This obtuse remark did not tally with the recently, thoroughly compiled accounts by The Shadow Brigade men on the activities of the newcomer, Fradel Rurik Korvald.    

Ordinarily such a minuscule discrepancy would not have elicited any concern from Zakhertan.  Reflecting additionally on the independent reports of Zyerne Stewor and Tizan, who had also curiously enough, raised doubts about the Scholar and considering the recent happenings, Zakhertan decided to delve deeper into the otherwise innocuous matter concerning Fradel Rurik Korvald.

02- FRADEL (NEVETSECNUAC) JP 7

    

He might well have inadvertently transported trouble right to the Capital. This farfetched notion now gripped his heart anew with a certain inexplicable foreboding, for far too many had already come-in-contact with the illustrious scholar. Zakhertan imagined the wide scope this investigation would entail, the deployment of manpower it would take to, either get at the simple truth or, expose all the subversives if his hunch proved correct. As it were, the scholars had again been gaining one third measure of their former prominence and along with it, their sphere of influence had expediently grown. In any event a quick confirmation of these nagging concerns was warranted; he must question the couriers Canbir Nonng and Cais Honger further, on the one minor irregularity in their report. Zakhertan had always insisted on complete and accurate assessments and, if this was the result of incompetence, sacrificing accuracy for expedience, then the couriers would have to answer for it with their lives. Quickly he dispatched another written order, this one to order the couriers to hand over their mission to the one who would be sent in their stead and return in post haste to the Capital.   

That was the end of it. Finally, Zakhertan leaned back and stretched out his limbs.

Grand Secretary Qarzten Caimund having concluded his assigned task expediently a short time earlier, had been waiting patiently for Zakhertan to finish his; he now came forward on the slight indication of Zakhertan Yozdek, to receive his verbal instructions in an ingenious code so secret that it was known only to the two.  Afterwards, Qarzten routinely picked up the order packets and, after bowing respectfully, hurried out the door to distribute them to the various department heads. All were required to work longer hours than the Sovereign.

The door quickly closed behind the Senior Grand Secretary, Zakhertan Yozdek watched with an uninterested blank stare Neru’s progress, then sat motionless in deep contemplative silence, dark clouds of thought swirling through his head and his guards only a whisper away.

    

                                                                                 ~    

    

Hastening out of the vestibule leading from the Imperial Chambers, the Senior Grand Secretary Qarzten Caimund’s head was full of the multiplicity of orders, arrangements, and duties that he must complete before the day’s session was over. So entangled was Qarzten Caimund in these thoughts that he did not see and nearly run into (collided with) a similarly distracted Crown Prince Herleif, as Prince rushed in the opposite direction armed with a stack of ancient scrolls and star charts.   

"On yet another urgent errand; are we, Master Caimund?"    

Prince Herleif’s tone, beneath that remark, grated on Qarzten Caimund’s nerves as it always did. The Senior Grand Secretary’s face tightened, and he averted his eyes for a moment, “You are such a barefaced weasel; still suckling your mother's milk after twenty-three years. Your derision is still palpable under that semblance of sarcasm.”  Qarzten Caimund looked squarely at the prince Herleif now and nodded tersely.

03- -QARZTEN CAMUND (16)Bjp

"I gather His Highness is free now."  The Crown Prince, with typical arrogance, had completely ignored Qarzten's response to his barb and spoke now in the icy tone he used for the servants. "You will step aside to let me pass."    

“This hall will fit five armored guards marching abreast. Did you expect me to acknowledge this childish attempt to flaunt your authority? Let us see just how far your authority will get you.” Qarzten Caimund mocked the prince inwardly.

 

 "By all means." Qarzten smiled tightly as he half turned and shot a knowing glance towards the guards at the chamber doors, moving as slow as he could to antagonize prince Herleif.

"I would like to mention however, that this time may not be appropriate for an unannounced visit."  Qarzten Caimund informed the prince, in his even tone. "Perhaps, you should defer your objective of seeing His Highness this very evening unless, of course, it is a matter of the utmost importance." Qarzten tautly grimaced; but kept the words, “particularly the way you are clad; did you just leave one of your debauched (decadent, base) bashes?” and derisively (scathingly, sarcastically) looked away.

"Impudent wretch, how dare you treat me like an imbecile (dullard) child.” The Prince Herleif's protruding earlobes had turned beet red, as he, seething in contempt, violently shoved the Senior Grand Secretary aside. "Wait until I am your Sovereign, you arrogant dog!"  His face suffused with anger and a stream of abuse gushing off inwardly, he strode quickly forward to cross the vestibule in only a second.  

Caught unaware by this outburst of temper, the Senior Grand Secretary Qarzten Caimund had dropped one of the sealed envelopes onto the marble floor. Anger smoldered in his breast as he stooped to pick it up and his face distorted with contempt. Half-turning his head, he witnessed the Prince Herleif’s way being barred by the two stout guards who had crossed pikes in front of the door to the Imperial Chambers.  

Herleif’s face reddened by rage and pressed menacingly against the senior guard’s, the prince growled, "Are you going to announce me or not? Fine! Step aside, for I mean to walk in immediately and report your insolence myself." 

04-PRINCE HERLEIF YOZDEK (2)

“Go ahead and slither in, you miserable worm, but you won't, will you?” Qarzten Caimund drew in a breath through his teeth then, catching the guard's eye, gave him a simple nod. He had proven his point.  

"I shall inform His Highness of your presence immediately." The stone-faced guard, not in the least perturbed, responded mechanically. "Please wait here, Prince Herleif."  Turning smartly, he stepped up to the door and knocked. After receiving begrudging consent, he opened the door and abjectly entered. After crossing half of the room and bowing briskly, he announced Price Herleif’s presence outside and his request to see the Sovereign.

 "What does that fool want now?' Zakhertan Yozdek snorted impatiently, expecting no answer, and turned his back to the guard to stare out at the serene scenery.   

 Awaiting orders, the guard had stood silently at attention, while at outside, under the transitory (brief) amused gaze of the departing Qarzten Caimund, Prince Herleif had for a spell simmered at his father's disdainful words. Then, he took in a slow breath and composed himself; subsequently, his hand reached inside his pocket, withdrew a rolled-up document, and waited.

 

                                                                                            ~

 

Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek with a blank expression, meanwhile, had continued to stare outside at the placid (tranquil) garden; his stern gaze next, focusing on the oblivious bird, taking in a drink or two from the fountain. Different troubling thoughts however, grievously (incorrigibly) and unbidden, anew robbed him of the peace he sought.

“If only Qijerrik had not turned on me.”  Zakhertan’s cold eyes blinked, filled with a deep hurt as he hissed out a long breath and shook his head. “If only my firstborn had lived instead of this wretched spawn.”  The grievous loss, the events of those days long gone, rushed in to crowd his mind again, searing his heart and soul with self-recrimination and regret. When the stabbing constriction in his chest became too overwhelming, Zakhertan summoned his will to push it aside and concentrated instead, on the positive attributes of his late son.

Zakhertan recollected fondly now with perfect clarity his proudest moments of Qijerrik. From the start, he’d been an offspring worthy of his sire. Not only Prince Qijerrik was most handsome warrior, as he was tall and athletic, though bit more handsome than him; but he had also been endowed with the same temperament, the same wits, tactical brilliance, and akin (parallel) martial ability (prowess) to Zakhertan at a corresponding age.

Zakhertan had hung great many hopes on his son Qijerrik’s shoulders after noting the potential in the boy, especially after, at age fifteen Prince Qijerrik had become, under his strict tutelage (guidance), an accomplished and indomitable warrior. What was more, Prince Qijerrik thrived on dangerous military campaigns just as Zakhertan did. The more perilous the task or more challenging the combat action the greater the thrill, the deeper the sensation the young Prince would derive from it. This feeling was one only Zakhertan would understand and, they were not just father and son but kindred spirits.  

05- QIJERRIK YOZDEK  (4)JP

But then cruel, capricious fate had instigated, on that fateful seventeenth’ year of his son's life, those infamous chain of events that had led up to his son’s betrayal, all of which were now permanently etched in Zakhertan 's memory by the same cursed talent that served him so well in his bureaucratic duties. Consistently every evening, as soon as he had time to himself, they had surfaced despite his best efforts to quash them and, fiercely, obsessively haunted his peace and tormented his soul.     

If only he had acted more swiftly and without qualm to stem the divergent tide earlier.    

 As it was Zakhertan had been preoccupied with obliteration of resurgent rebel forces at 

Wenjenkun’s western borders, while same time he was constrained to adopt far more severe, more brutal measures to eradicate the infestation the serious unrest by the rising literati (intellectuals or educated class) within Capital Province Holger. Unfortunately, while he was otherwise engaged, the contrary seed had been planted and had germinated in the one Zakhertan had least expected. That single oversight had cost him his firstborn son. When he became aware of this fact, of course by then he could not have altered the outcome, not in the slightest.   

Again, considering his then options in hindsight, Zakhertan shrugged with a certain resignation, admitting to himself that he could not have done otherwise for, on that cursed day when the dark flotilla of clouds congregated ominously on the horizon atop the rising sun, his beloved son Qijerrik, had insisted on, and unfortunately received, his permission to lead vanguard in the attack against the rebel scholars.  After all, Zakhertan had no reason to doubt his son's competence.     

The campaign had gone well enough, with the Imperial forces emerging victorious as expected; after which came the punitive action that wreaked total devastation on the entire populous which had aided and shielded the defiant scholars. Unfortunately, something had gone awry, something else quite unforeseen had transpired either on the battlefield or in aftermath, which had forever altered his beloved son Prince Qijerrik.      

The rebel army had fought gallantly and employed brilliant tactics right up until the bitter end, but that would not have brought about that kind of change in Qijerrik, for he had bested gallant foes before. Was it the gruesome mass suicide of the rebel forces when all hope had been lost? Or was it the subsequent events, the countrywide hunt for and the extreme persecution of the many sympathizers? Could it have been the madness of the pillaging, the extensive carnage and mass extermination of the scholar class? Or was it simply the proliferation (creation) of the earthen mounds that had contained within it, countless living bodies of men, women, and children? Could any of these or all, have been the contributing factors?

“No! Absolutely not! Qijerrik was no weakling coward. “Zakhertan once more vehemently denied that hurtful notion. It had to have been something entirely different, something inconceivable and one day he (Zakhertan) would surely pinpoint the real cause. Zakhertan yet again lied to himself. Technically that had been the day he had lost his firstborn son for, from that day forth Prince Qijerrik had undergone a drastic change in heart, mind, and character. He had become increasingly unruly and finally, downright disobedient.  

“If only my son had been a fallen casualty in war.” Zakhertan mulled over, though he surmised that, in a sense, Qijerrik had been just that.  

“Could the fault have been partly his? He should have listened to his son more?”    

“If only he’d paid more attention and timely intervened with apt measures to protect and isolate Qijerrik from those damaging influences, instead of reacting in anger and ostracizing his son for being contrary and too outspoken?” Zakhertan once more pondered on the nagging concerns, with his empty gaze affixed on the swaying trees (that seemed to be bowing obsequiously), for the wind had just then picked up in the garden.  

 “Had he been too stringent? Had he pushed his son too hard, too soon? No, that was not it either.” Zakhertan scowled. Whatever he might have done wrong, one thing was for certain: he had never been lax in Qijerrik’s upbringing or discipline. In fact, up until that time, Zakhertan had taken an active interest and taken great care in ensuring that Qijerrik had received proper, well-rounded education in both civil and military.   

“Then, how could he have failed to instill in the boy, the most important filial virtue, right alongside loyalty and honor?”  Zakhertan was angry and remained at a loss to find reasons for that drastic change in Qijerrik and the subsequent, catastrophic series of events. Searing fury rose in him anew as he recalled the distressing incident in Council when his son sharply stood up in front of all assembled, to openly oppose him. Admittedly, it was over a minor issue, but the act was still one of open, brazen defiance; a legitimate move under the law but it harbored graver undercurrents which would expose Zakhertan’s single weakness and challenge his overall authority in Imperial Court.

 Zakhertan Yozdek regretted now not using right there and then the provisions in the law which would have allowed him to exercise his option to incarcerate Qijerrik summarily. If only he had imprisoned him, indefinitely or even executed him, instead of banishing him?

Zakhertan had repeated the same haunting question thousands of times and each time the same regret, recrimination, hurt, disappointment, furious rage, and bitterness gripped his heart, in that merciless, wrenching grip. Had he done that, he would have spared himself the mortifying, wounding torment of knowing that his beloved son, his own flesh, and blood, was capable of such treachery against him and all he stood for.

There was one other in the family, his youngest sister, who had likewise betrayed him; but Zakhertan had understood and eventually forgiven her for her misplaced loyalty, for she’d from the first, been deeply infatuated (besotted) with her husband, Lord Shonne Gulbrand. But to be so betrayed by his once beloved son was something Zakhertan had never expected or imagined as a possibility. Each time that memory surfaced, the same fierce indignation and fury welled up from the depths of his soul and he suffered that akin, bittersweet sensation of bile rising to his mouth, as the day Prince Qijerrik’s war slogans had reached his ears.

06- QIJERRIK YOZDEK  (3)JP

Zakhertan’s eyes had burned with intense heat from reading those seditious adages posted for all to see in the towns’ squares, which rallied the populous restive and ripe, for an all-out rebellion. Those contemptible words (like gnawing parasites) were permanently etched (engraved) in his brain. One of those had said: “Arise good people who has suffered for so long under the severity of despotic Zakhertan Yozdek's oppressive regime, time to oppose his repressive laws and demand reckoning for the wrongs that had never been redressed; unite and take up arms, for yours is the righteous cause!”    

“My son, my most beloved son; how deeply you’d injured me!”  Zakhertan’s mouth presently, creased into a grimace of pain for each one of those seditious words had been a stiletto in Zakhertan’s heart and the damage hence, had been irreparable.

Zakhertan would have judged Qijerrik more leniently, had all this been done because of high ambition, Prince wanting to seize the throne for himself; that Zakhertan could have lived with, but Qijerrik had taken on the mantle of a liberator.     

This had been unforgivable, and it had unleashed the culmination of all that unbridled fury Zakhertan Yozdek had amassed in him; consequently, he had acted swiftly and more savagely than ever before to bring about total devastation of innumerable (myriad) Wenjenkuners.

 

(END OF SECTION 5)