LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE CAPITAL CHANNING - SECTION 6

 

 It was announced throughout the Capital the next morning that the curfew that had been imposed on the citizens for several days had been finally lifted.  This unexpected news discernibly placed everyone in a good mood. 

Resigned as Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) was to be receiving the expected callers, nothing could have prepared him for the greatest influx (incursion) of guests, consequently, the public relations challenge/nightmare that was thrust upon him. He was suddenly cast amid the demanding posh (high-born) society’s elite with their unprecedented rigid rules and regulations, frivolous propriety (decorum) and antiquated (obsolete, archaic) protocols (etiquette), compelling him to juggle (manage) these with his academic onuses (obligations, responsibilities), all of it within the tiresome, whirlwind dance of aristocratic revelry. 

Zakhertan Yozdek had abolished the examination system around the time of the first of the intellectual purges.  Nepotism aside, for those seeking a new or better post in the government yet lacking in military prowess, social contacts have become an all-important, crucial (key, vital) source.  Their prospects were now perpetually reliant (dependent) on the personal recommendations from those officials who had already acquired power and distinction and were willing to tie their own futures to that of the candidates whom they recommended.

Deeming the esteemed scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald’s arrival as a good presage (omen, potent), the elite of Channing in their ostentatious carriages and litters, had descended in droves (multitudes) upon Zaur Stugr 's residence, all bearing rich and lavish gifts for the host and his guest, all same time hoping to satiate their curiosity about this promising, once elusive scholar.

As large as Minister of Ceremony Zaur Stugr’s residence was, its path was worn thin by this onslaught of sycophants.  Finally, Minister Zaur sought out the Prime Minister for his permission, consulted with Fradel Rurik Korvald then, taking matters into his own hands, graciously postponed all but the most important appointments until after Fradel Rurik Korvald’s audience with the Sovereign.

As this was most agreeable to many of the prudent nobility, (those wanting to see first, how the scholar would rank in favor with His Royal Highness Zakhertan Yozdek), the request was adopted without any qualm.

Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) thus was spared from any more torment, from those slick-toured officials and nobles, who with their smiling faces and black hearts hid their ulterior motives poorly behind the facade of congeniality.

 In fact, every loaded word they sputtered, every covert gesture they made, every seemingly innocent remark with which they hoped to embroil scholars in their dark intrigues had taken their toll and had ground down Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac’s) spirit despite his outward show of vigor (enthusiasm) and resilience.

This welcome respite had come none too soon, for it was followed the next morning at daybreak by an invitation from the Prime Minister requesting Fradel Rurik Korvald’s illustrious presence at an exclusive, nevertheless, an elaborate party to be given in his honor in nine days’ time.

                                                                             ~

 

 In the subsequent days, Minister of Ceremony Zaur Stugr proved to be a most attentive, congenial host, anticipating, and fulfilling with uncanny precision, his guest's every perceived desire and whim.

 Swayed somewhat by this solicitude, Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) found himself amending some of his first impressions of the junior Minister.  Only seven years Nevetsecnuac's senior, Zaur Stugr seemed overall to be a mild mannered, articulate and most obliging person.  Looking much younger than his age, fair in complexion, he sported only a thin mustache, and tapered beard.  Tall, thin, and strikingly handsome, with striking blue eyes, he did not need the extra adornments his peers affected to accentuate his winning features.  His lush, over the shoulder straight, raven (jet black) hair was always glistening clean and only sometimes was bound behind his neck by a simple leather band.  In contrast to his striking physique, however, he was moderate in his manners and speech and bore none of the pretentious airs associated with his office.  On numerous occasions Nevetsecnuac (Fradel Rurik Korvald) observed that this amiable persona allowed Zaur to place whomever he interacted with, regardless of their position, wealth, or power, at their ease.  Without them being aware of it, he was able to manipulate them into opening and laying bare even the most secretive thoughts that lay in the deep recesses of their hearts then sent them away contented with even more confidence and trust in this remarkable Junior Minister.

03- ZAUR STUGR   JP 20

When Zaur Stugr turned this charm on Fradel Rurik Korvald, it took most of Nevetsecnuac's discernment and perception to avoid being swept away by the tide of affable good will that Zaur Stugr bountifully projected.  Despite his reserve, Nevetsecnuac had gradually grown quite fond of the Junior Minister and his winning ways.  Yearning for the close bonds of companionship, Zaur Stugr seemed to be the most likely candidate on which to lay his trust and friendship, yet Nevetsecnuac held back, restrained by the stronger sensibility that had guided him ever since he had first encountered Zunrogo and the people from the Capital.

 Even though there was a complete absence of proof, there was this anomalous, nagging feeling that his charming host Zaur was leading a double life, one entirely different in character from the persona he projected every day.  This sense of duality insisted on caution, if not slight distrust, particularly when dealing with affable Minister Zaur Stugr.

 At any rate after all Nevetsecnuac had seen, heard, and lived through during these past months, the innocence and trust that had once been second nature to him had been supplanted, lost forever.  At present Nevetsecnuac's guard was perpetually up, leaving no room for the spark of familiarity or friendship to develop.

Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) was bit sad that, he frequently (habitually) now, felt prematurely aged (rather old) and hardened to the core.

As happened, this dilemma eventually resolved itself when his pessimistic apprehension was given further credibility by the successive events; however, as nothing much out of the ordinary or spectacular happened, this will not warrant any elaboration.

                                                                               ~

 On the seventh day Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) had spent the better part of the afternoon sightseeing few historic sites that the Capital Channing was famed for then afterward, both host and guest had enjoyed a sumptuous feast at the house of one of Zaur Stugr’s colleagues.

On their return to the Junior Minister's residence both felt reluctant to retire for the night and forgo the enjoyment of full moon; despite the lateness of the hour hence, they mutually decided to resume their conversation where they had left it in the Quiet Waters Pavilion, by the eastern end of the artificial (man-made) lake, that also had alongside it, a delightful, swimming pool where if they wished they could take a cool dip in private. 

The pleasant company, delightful warm breeze buffeting their sleeves, caressing their faces, and the fullness of the moon casting brilliant (rippled) reflection on the water all, had put Zaur in such a good mood that he had, without reservation, downed several more cups of wine, far exceeding his tolerance level.

Fradel (Nevetsecnuac), on the contrary, careful managing his intake of drink had of course emptied his cup discreetly, whenever he could, onto the ground. During the night as they partook (participated) in consuming still more variety of choice, vintage vines, Nevetsecnuac seizing an apt opportunity, subtly steered the conversation around to the subject of Kontu in the hope of extracting from the Minister Zaur Stugr, more indebt version and true accounts (pertaining to) concerning Sovereign Murong Di.

Zaur’s inhibitions by then having gradually eased (melted away) he, with his virtuoso narration, his gifted elaborations, and an uncanny knowledge of the smallest details, so competently (dazzlingly) painted such vivid pictures for Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) that, it made him feel as though he personally was in Kontu, hearing and experiencing it all firsthand. And so, that night listening to Zaur Stugr’s account, Nevetsecnuac came to learn all about (even filling in the blanks, the missing facts, when Nevetsecnuac had first learned about Kontu from Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon back at the mountain cabin,) how Hedenko had artfully risen in prominence and power while still purportedly a vassal, commanding the army of Sovereign Murong Di of Kontu. 

Nevetsecnuac could well understand Minister Zaur Stugr’s fascination of these historical facts for the whole thing unfolded more like a military textbook with, do and don’ts.

Despite the growing threat from Hedenko, King Murong Di had unwisely given precedence to the prevailing danger from the state of Icone instead.

 In his royal arrogance he had foolishly turned a deaf ear to the counsel of his able ministers that Hedenko should be summoned to court immediately, by force, if necessary, to give good and true account of his rebellious activities.  Unfortunately, by the time the King had awakened to the true danger that existed to his rule, internal strife, and corruption within his court itself had curtailed his ability to deal with Hedenko at all and had sealed his fate once and for all.  When his only other recourse, assassination, proved ineffective within the tight military control of Lord Deng Hedenko's lands, King Murong Di resorted to a ruse.  Extending his edict of general amnesty to include Hedenko, he let it be known that it was his Royal wish that they end the strained relationship between them.

 At the same time Sovereign Murong Di made the most generous proposal of marriage between Princess Teuquob and the Lord, knowing that Hedenko would not be able to resist the temptation to acquire the most enchanting beauty in the entire Kingdom.

Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) had previously speculated that the Sovereign Murong Di's offer had been solely for the purpose of luring Lord Hedenko to the Royal Court to procure the rebel's demise.  Zaur Stugr had reaffirmed this proposition when he outlined the King's plans to have Hedenko apprehended, charged with treason, and promptly executed once he left the safety of his fortified lair to fetch his bride and attend the matrimonial festivities.

"It’s an ingenious, but nevertheless effective stratagem." Zaur Stugr concurred in good humor.

"Unaware of the sinister plan lurking in the mind of the Monarch Murong Di, the Prime Minister at that time, Neru, had for some time attempted in vain to deter the King from such a move.  He recalled to his Sovereign, Hedenko's ruthless exploits, his lack of filial piety and his brutality towards women.  He had even grimly foretold, at the risk of incurring royal disfavor, that the Lord's ambition would not be satiated that easily and that Hedenko would not rest until he had seized total power and usurped the throne for himself.  This marriage would only whet (sharpen, hone) his appetite and lead to much graver consequences.”

Monarch Murong Di, grimacing coldly, had once more not heeded the sound advice and furthermore, had concealed his true aim for fear of spies in court. 

“That, in itself, his inability to trust anyone, was a prime cause of the King's subsequent downfall."  Zaur Stugr nodded thoughtfully.

05- HEDENKO 9JP

“Hedenko, his mind equally treacherous, had accepted this proposal without reserve not so much because of the tempting bait, but because it helped him advance his own sinister plan.  The Lord's aim paralleled Sovereign Murong Di's, it seemed.  To further disarm the Monarch, he even swore to surrender all his forces and land holdings to the King the moment he was made his son-in-law, giving substance to the rumors that he had planted, that Hedenko wanted most of all to prove his loyalty to Murong and assume his former position as the King's most loyal vassal.   He set his supporters to work to reinforce this pretense in the ear of the Monarch Murong Di with similar reports supposedly from various sources.”

"This marriage proposal", Deng Hedenko had ostensibly, duly professed upon receipt, "had been a great honor and had overwhelmed him."

“Touched by the wisdom, the insight and benevolence of the Sovereign, more specifically Murong's show of good faith, Hedenko had supposedly paced up and down “in a shrine before the Gods of his ancestors and sworn an oath of allegiance to live up to his Highness' expectations.  He'd vowed also to first disprove then permanently silence the slanderers of his good name.”

“Now,” Zaur chuckled. “This covert warning sent shock waves of fear among the opposition. (In the many days that ensued) Subsequently, many had tried to amend their mistakes, others had gone hiding and still others had taken flight under various pretexts, never to be heard from again.  Meanwhile, more hateful than ever of Monarch Murong, Hedenko had initiated his long-term plans and immediately began implementing his designs on the throne.  After all, he had just been handed a perfect opportunity on a silver platter.”

“Having received this go-ahead signal, his ardent supporters, courtiers, and military generals alike, underhandedly but aggressively began their campaign of support in the Capital, the last seat of power for Murong, attempting to drum up favorable support for Hedenko and paving the way for a total capitulation, or at least for an assured success with the least resistance from those unyielding loyalist Lords too powerful as yet to be quickly extinguished. “

“The plan was for Hedenko to make his entry into the Capital with his elite force of assassins disguised as servants bringing along the bride price, this in addition to the small number of guards accompanying him.  During the festivities Hedenko would personally seize Murong and assassinate him on the spot.  The Lord already had a dagger concealed in the hall where the ceremony was to take place, planted by one of his spies at Court.  After his consolidation of power throughout the land he would pass judgment on the only surviving member of the Royal Family, Princess Teuquob.  If she proved worthy of further attention, then she would be made his new wife.  Since, however, Hedenko believed in a clean sweep and no mercy, a policy he had adopted after every victory, it was clear that, following the birth of a son or two, depending on his whim, and then she would be made to forfeit her life as well.”

"But things took on a bizarre, rather unexpected turn." Zaur Stugr exhaled deeply with heightened zeal, "The Princess who was to be wed took flight just two weeks before all this was to happen and unfortunately perished in a storm at sea.  Of course, another (a distant royal cousin of marriable age) was quickly offered in her stead.  Hedenko, appearing most agreeable, went through with this wedding and, naturally, with his planned usurpation of the throne.  And at present, he has been the omnipotent ruler of Kontu for more than a decade."  Falling silent, Zaur reached to fill his cup.

06-NEVETSECNUAC  JP 19

Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) looked up thoughtfully for the first time and was about to inquire how Zaur Stugr was so exceptionally well informed about the internal politics of the Kontu Royal Court, when Zaur, surmising his question, held up his hand, then with some modesty exclaimed. "Perhaps I have neglected to inform you that I am an ardent student of political history.  Since childhood I have been intrigued by the process of how Kingdoms rose and fell.  In fact, I think it’s a curiosity I've inherited."  He threw Nevetsecnuac a whimsical smile.

“He's withholding something pertinent.”  Nevetsecnuac studied Zie with an impassive silence.

"I regret that I have not had the opportunity to show you my extensive library on this subject but, if you like, we could visit it tomorrow.  It is mainly taken up with documents bearing historical accounts, original writs or copied replicas painstakingly compiled since the time of my grandfather.  I cannot take the credit for my own small contributions."  He pensively drank few more sips of wine.  "It escaped the destruction of the purges simply because the papers are totally unrelated to the history of Wenjenkun.”

“Those accounts you will not find it here or anywhere for that matter, unless you want to view the government archives which house the official, Imperial- sanctioned versions."  There was a hint of disdain in Zaur’s tone as he mumbled this last sentence as he pursed his lips and looked over the pond.

 

Nevetsecnuac discounted this pseudo frank disclaimer which he believed it to be, not entirely the truth and, he deliberately ignored the tiny hint of rebellious discontent in Zaur ‘tone, not wishing to take the bait.  What’s more, he strongly suspected this very resourceful Minister to be in possession of some forbidden material, well-hidden for posterity, if not here, then somewhere within the Minister’s reach.

Fradel’s lack of reaction, meanwhile, had disappointed Zaur Stugr.  Never had he failed in gaining a valuable insight or drawing out pertinent information from the intended recipient (addressee), by his seemingly casual remarks (word) or contacts; yet after seven days Fradel Rurik Korvald was still an absolute mystery to him; the scholar's intrinsic ideas had eluded all scrutiny, remaining as elusive as ever. He could only glean some abstract notions of what Fradel thought and, all Zaur had instead, was a moderate number of unusable impressions. 

Even now Zaur Stugr was not certain whether Fradel was genuinely interested in the history of Kontu or had been listening out of mere politeness. He threw a sidelong glance at his guest.  “How can I reach you?  How can I penetrate that invisible wall you've encased yourself in and tap those inner realms of your thoughts?” He mused sardonically.  “You're unlike anyone I've met, and you are certainly not like any other scholar.  There's no trace of the arrogance and frivolity of the usual unscrupulous literati about you.  Your brilliant mind is the only thing about you that I can be certain of.”

 

                                                                                             ~

 

Wiping the frown from his thoughts before it manifested (became apparent) on his face, Zaur Stugr reached for some morsels and, as he ate in thoughtful silence, he sized up Fradel Rurik Korvald from the corner of his eye.  Suddenly, unconsciously he chuckled.  “Surely, even you are not immune to lust.  No man is.  I simply haven't found the right lure (bait) to entice you with. Hmm, perhaps someone, like the fabled Princess Teuquob, if only she was still alive.”

 Meeting Nevetsecnuac's questioning gaze, he spoke in a soft, almost longing (pining) voice, "As I understand it, and this has been thoroughly verified by all, Princess Teuquob was a rare beauty."  He hesitated.

“Hmm… It would not do to reveal too much, the scope of his influence with the foreign spies and the local underground, no matter how harmless this Fradel Rurik Korvald seemed.”

“My wife is right; of late, I've been indulging in spirits far too much.” He silently admonished himself. 

“I can't afford this failing to get the better of me, not with what's at stake.”  He curtailed his speech and determined to take it easy on the wine yet, for a brief spell his disobedient mind had wandered and, he remembered how he had secretly commissioned his spies in Kontu to secure a portrait of the Princess Teuquob, filled with details taken from all the accounts of those who had known her and still lived.

It had taken great lengths to obtain it, just to satisfy his curiosity.  Expectedly, he had been delighted by the outcome. 

“As a matter of fact,” he reflected,” that had been my only eccentric act of late, until this one.”  

The predictability of his daily routine as a Minister of Ceremony had suffocated him somewhat so he had rushed to the chance to play host to the illustrious Fradel Rurik Korvald when the Prime Minister had brought up the subject of the scholar's lodging.

"I've been told this, of course, through the flattering descriptions of Princess Teuquob in the letters of the time." he quickly corrected himself.

"They describe Princess Teuquob as legendary in her beauty, with none, neither in Kontu nor in Wenjenkun able to equal her in charm or grace.  She would have been a worthy consort for any man, even our Emperor Zakhertan Yozdek."

 Listening to his own intonations, Zaur knew that he had betrayed that desire that had lain in his heart ever since he had viewed that portrait.  The beauties of Channing had paled horribly in comparison, and he had felt cheated somewhat.  After mumbling apologies at his indiscretion, he offered a lame excuse for it all and steered the topic of the conversation onto safer, more superficial concerns.  Subsequently he had played the fool, the antagonist, the diffident boor, the sincere friend, the provocative sophist and once more the wanton womanizer yet; Fradel Rurik Korvald had not taken any of the bait and had remained obstinately as elusive as ever.  He would have to try yet another (peculiar means) atypical angle to draw out Fradel Rurik Korvald.

Meanwhile, Nevetsecnuac had suppressed with remarkable iron will, his intense displeasure and extreme annoyance, rather rage at Zaur's tiresome deceits, his obvious, long-term infatuation and lust for Teuquob, his beloved wife.

 Nevetsecnuac fighting the urge to lash out at Zaur, distractedly at this point, had bent to retrieve a happily chirping cicada by his feet; just then however, quite unexpectedly the long-forgotten key that was kept in the inner pocket of this specific garment, fell to on the terrazzo (tiled flooring) with a loud thud.  Its same time had let off an unusual, curious glint as it caught the juxtaposed reflections of the brilliant moonlight and soft lamplight on its surface. 

Nevetsecnuac abandoned the cicada and quickly reached instead to retrieve the key, as the same time noted with curiosity, from the corner of his eye, Zaur’s fleeting reaction of shock and horror that was quickly replaced by an unemotional mask.

 

“He knows something”

 

 

(END OF SECTION 6)

                                                                                        ~ 

 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 20

When Zunrogo returned to Room Ten Tizan, who had been seated complacently by the fire, sprang to attention at once.

"When did you get back?" Zunrogo asked as he closed the door behind him.

"I preceded you only by minutes, sir." Tizan smiled.

Sitting in the comfortable chair opposite Tizan, he signaled with his chin for the guard to sit down again then leaned back to get more comfortable.  "Well, let’s hear it."

01-TZAN JP

"In accordance with your orders, sir, I kept a close eye on Briac.  As anticipated, shortly after retiring to the room he shares with Frastos, I observed Briac sneaking back out again and followed him down the side alleys to the shop of the local barber on Kannicro Street.  When he entered these premises, I proceeded to climb to the roof and literally eavesdrop on their conspiracy.  It seems that we have not weeded out all the spies in the vicinity, sir. 

Despite Briac's intimidation, the barber still insisted on being paid more for the services of one of his messenger pigeons, yet that tightwad eventually gave up on his curses and met the barber halfway.  A short message was attached to the leg of the bird, and it was set free.  As you per your prior instructions, I did not intercept its flight."  He paused for affirmation.

"You were right in doing that."  Zunrogo was pleased.  "I knew that he would be sending out a message in one form or another soon after the briefing but this pigeon business, I confess, is somewhat precarious, though culpable.  Where did the barber keep them?  How was it, these courier pigeons escaped the now questionable, thorough inspection of the premise?"

"In the attic, sir, behind a false wall… The bleating of a goat kept in the room drowned out the pigeons ‘cooing."

"Keeping a goat in the attic?  And that did not warrant an investigation?"

"Frastos could hardly be blamed, sir.  The barber had concocted a plausible excuse; he said that his senile old mother, who slept in the same room, believed the goat to be her deceased husband returned to this life in another form.  In addition, an ingenious contraption had to be dismantled before the wall gave way.  Apparently, this was there to discourage the old woman from tampering with the pigeons."

"I assume, the situation was corrected then after Briac's departure?"

"Expediently, sir… The barber, his wife, his senile mother, and the remaining birds have all been dispatched, liberated from this world.  The well in the courtyard, however, will not be of much use for some time, I'm afraid."  He grinned coldly.

"I thought, Tizan, that you always liked to be thorough, but I see that I was wrong." Zunrogo smiled wryly at the guard's nonplused expression.

"The goat." he said and chuckled with good humor.

 Tizan grinned, catching the joke.

 "Now, to this business with Briac"

"Excuse me, sir." Tizan interrupted.  "I took liberty, knowing what little time we have, to initiate a solution."  He stalled, seeing the anger flame up in the captain's eyes.

Zunrogo checked his anger.  Tizan, he knew, was a competent underling and he tried not to discourage initiative.  "You have a plan, Tizan?" he asked sternly.  "Well then, let’s hear it."

"Well, sir, only part of it has been implemented.  If it meets with your censure, nothing much is lost.  I wanted to consult with you before carrying out the rest of it."

Zunrogo was intrigued. “All right, at least he's not being overly ambitious.”

Still, he had to confirm, "You, of course, did no harm to Briac?"

02 - BRIAC (2)

"No sir. That would be tantamount to disobeying your orders."

"Let’s hear it, then.  What is it, this great plan of yours?"

"Well, sir, it involves using this."  Tizan picked up a fair size pouch he had kept by the side of the chair until then and, rising, handed it over to the captain.

Zunrogo, with a certain curiosity, peered inside.  At once he apprehended the plan and he beamed, "Well done."

"You approve, then."

"Quite; it’s a fitting end for him, I say."  He handed the pouch back to Tizan.  "You must have been toying with this idea for some time."

"For a while now, sir; however, I had to be first assured of Briac's treachery."  His eyes fell on the pouch.  "Unfortunately, the previous owner was not obliging, and I had to resort to force." Tizan explained dispassionately.

Zunrogo’s heart winced.  He did not need to ask whether the victim was mercifully dispatched or had writhed (squirmed) in agony, for he knew Tizan only too well. In that remote fishing village where once Tizan had lived till about month or so before at the age of twelve, well, Tizan’s cruel stepfather Zianko had done a lot in shaping, unleashing Tizan’s sadistic nature.  (You may check back to: Book 1 – Fisherman’s Prize – Section 3).  

Tizan, since his recruitment, had been rather useful in accomplishing exceedingly difficult, most abhorred tasks; for his conscience never bothered him, in fact, he reveled in it.  His sadistic nature consistently craved, fed on the sufferings of others, even more so when he, himself, inflicted the pain.

"Well, I expect you still have a few more details to see (tend) too." Zunrogo, with a wave of his hand, abruptly dismissed Tizan.  But then, as the guard was headed towards the door, Zunrogo offhand voiced his query: "How will you do it, without waking him up?"

Tizan halting turned to explain, "I knew Briac would be visiting a lady friend of his before he returned to the Inn.  Oh, I've had her screened and she's no threat.  Anyway, after the business with the barber, I left a jug of fine wine on Briac's bed table, supposedly a gift from the Innkeeper to apologize for the incident in the dining hall.  As greedy and selfish as I know him to be, he's sure to consume the entire jug this very night.  I expect him to presently be passed out cold on his bed."

"Then he'll be getting two surprises tomorrow." Zunrogo smiled coldly.  "Do a complete job on him."

"Yes, sir, I most certainly will."  Tizan bowed and, turning smartly, left the room.

“He's too efficient.”  Zunrogo stared at the door with certain uneasiness.  “How much he reminds me of myself at that age.”

                                                                               ~

“Wake up, lazy bag of bones!  Wake up, I say.  It's nearly dawn."

"Oh, leave me alone, damn it!"  His lids half covered his eyes as he took a cursory look at the window.  "It’s still dark outside."  He buried his face back into the pillow.

"Get up this instant, that's an order!"  The commanding voice made him sit up with a start.  Rubbing his eyes into focus, Briac looked bewilderedly from one guard to the other until he saw the captain seated by the fireplace.  Instantly, he sprang out of bed to stand at attention, naked as the day he was born, “Yes sir… sorry, sir."

“At ease. " Captain Zunrogo grunted.

The speed of his movement meanwhile had made Briac’s head, ache, and Briac moved his hand up to rub his aching skull.  "What the…Aiyyegg!" Overnight he had mysteriously lost all his hair, gone completely bald.

“So, it wasn't a bad dream after all.”  His bewildered eyes caught the venomous grin on Tizan's sinister face and noted a certain satisfaction in the depths of his pupils.

 "Are you responsible for this outrage?"  Fists clenched, he turned furiously to Tizan.

"And how do you like your new look?" Tizan stared down at him belligerently.  Throwing his head back, Tizan laughed until a stern look from the captain abruptly silenced him.

With anger and incomprehension in his eyes, Briac looked at Frastos but Frastos stood at attention with his head lowered, attempting with all his might to stifle a laugh.

“You, spineless cur,” Briac inwardly cursed, disgusted by his friend's cowardice.  Turning to Zunrogo, with a pained look in his eyes, his voice anxiously protested, "Sir, what Tizan has done…this is an unmitigated outrage."

The captain did not answer; in his solid, unwavering, stone eyes, there was no emotion at all; he was indifferent, if not completely cold, to Briac's suffering.

03-- ZUNROGO TUGO - JP 26

“How could Captain Zunrogo Tugo have sanctioned this?  How could he have condoned it?  Wasn't it only last night that he had admonished Tizan and warned him to behave?  What could have gone wrong since then?”  Briac blanched.

 “No, that's inconceivable.”  Despite his fierce denial, his heart pounded through his chest as he was seized with inexplicable fear and his head ached even more.

"What are you waiting for?"  Tizan's sharp bark brought him back with a start.

"Put these on at once.  The captain wants to see how you look in them."  Tizan forcefully thrust a bundle into his hands.

Briac venomously glared at Tizan and inwardly cursed. “Despicable beast…This is all your doing; how long did it take you to construct this vile revenge and to beget this humiliation. You deserve to be torn apart, limb from limb, by the wild dogs.”

"But these are not my clothes." Briac outwardly, however, had protested, looking past Tizan to address the captain. 

"Are you dense?  Put them on at once!" Tizan bellowed, so close that his breath, heavy with loathing, beat on Briac's face furiously.

His heart pounded wildly with intense fear, making Briac's hands tremble as he begrudgingly donned the garments and stood before the captain.

"Oh; and put this on too."  Tizan robustly thrust, the scalp with long locks of blond hair, the same shade and color as Fradel Rurik Korvald's, into Briac's hand.  "It’s sure to improve your looks.  No need to thank me for it." He grinned maliciously.

Briac, knitting his brows, looked at the scalp and hair (pelt) with incomprehension.  Then, as understanding dawned onto him his eyes widened with horror and, with a visible shudder, he looked up questioningly at Tizan. “Just what kind of monster are you?”

"Come over here." the captain's stern voice commanded him into a seat.  His cold stare inspected Briac's disguise for the first time as the guard obediently sat down.

"You have been assigned to this most important task," Zunrogo explained with cool indifference. " Yes, you’ve’ been honored with this job, taking in due consideration, of your past extenuating service, your courage in line of duty and, once loyalty to me.”

“Past…. once loyalty…” Briac swallowed dryly, his stomach knotting itself tighter and tighter.

“But Sir,”

"You wish to object?"  The captain's glacial tone froze the blood in the guard's veins.

“Do they know?  Do they suspect that I’m...?  Is this to be only the most lenient part of my punishment?  How could that be, I've been so careful? How could they’ve have found out?” The outcome was too frightful for Briac to even imagine.

“No, that isn't it.”  Briac bit his lip and clenched his fists to control the trembling in his            hands.

 “It can’t be… I’m still safe.  Didn't the Captain just say that I'm being honored?”

 He swallowed fearfully and bowed his head abjectly, dropping his eyes to the ground.

 "No sir." Briac feebly assented.

"Then it's settled." Zunrogo glared.  "From now on you are forbidden to remove this disguise.  Those are your new orders."

"Very well, sir." Briac swallowed dryly and, as the captain got up to leave, he looked up to meet Tizan's eyes.

"What are you afraid of?" Tizan goaded Briac.  "Perhaps you're afraid to die?  You…"

The captain stopped mid-stride and half-turned to stare sharply back at Tizan, silencing him instantly with his look.  Tizan took a step back, cowed.

No sooner was Zunrogo gone than Tizan, a cruel half-smile on his lips, jovially clapped Briac on the shoulder.

"Don't worry, Briac, you'll be well protected.  Frastos and I will see to that.  Won't we, Frastos?"

04- FRASTOS - JP 07

Briac disdainfully jerked away from Tizan's hand and turned his back to him to turn his imploring eyes on Frastos.  "Why me?" the groan escaped his trembling lips.

Frastos avoided Briac's eyes.  Lowering his head, he mumbled softly. "It makes sense.”

But then inwardly, he added, “Better you than me.”

 

(END OF SECTION 20)

 

                                                                                          ~

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 32

 

 At some distance from Hecun’s contingent, Mouro and his two guards, traveling ahead on the major highway, by nightfall had already checked in to a long-established inn and were, indulging themselves in a fine feast and a good measure of the local wine. All during dinner Mouro had been staring at the young waiter, one of the groups that were tending their table.  His exceptional good looks, fine features and delicate mannerisms drew Mouro out to the point of infatuation; discretely at first, but after a flagon or two of wine, Mouro had flirted more openly (uninhibitedly) with the young man.

01= MOURO KERR

One of the guards, called Dag Diez, found this rather amusing, joined in the fun but the other, called Kade Luir, having some scruples, found the show most distasteful. Soon as he could, Kade Luir therefore asked to be excused and retired early to his room. After divesting himself from his travel garments, Kade Luir had just slipped under the covers when the other guard Dag Diez staggered in, curses and complaints on his breath.

Ranting and raving incoherently, Dag finally settled down, "That Mouro!  Just because he's in charge, where does he get off!  The gall he has, ordering me around in that manner!  I'll show him!"

 Dag Diez slammed his fist into the door, his face dark with anger.  "He's too much!  I'm not even tired."  He was striding to and for across the room now, rubbing his burning fist.  "Am I less deserving than he?  There's nothing amiable about his...eh?"  Dag sheepishly threw a glance at his companion, who had indifferently shifted and turned his back to him.

"Besides, why should I retire when I haven't even had my fill yet?  All because he wants to indulge himself in perverse pleasure.  Was I crowding him, or something?"  Huffing, he plumped himself into the chair.

After a moment's silence, his mood had changed, "Yeah, he always did like them that way best.  He toys with people’s lives; he likes to play games and moreover, always have be the alfa dog, the domineering one…"

Kade Luir, feigning to sleep with his face to the wall, ground his teeth in anger, or was it jealousy?  He was so incensed with Mouro, and this intoxicated fool that he had to struggle to contain his bursting rage.

"Did you see how annoyed the innkeeper was?  What a sight to see!  That old sourpuss squirmed like a pig back there."  Dag Diez slapped his knee drunkenly and roared.

"But he wouldn't dare openly say a word against it.  He didn’t have the guts!  Even if Mouro hadn't flaunted all that money around, the greedy wimp knows enough to keep his trap shut and his tail tucked between his legs.  He knows enough not to stick his bulbous nose into trouble.  How else would he have lasted so long and prospered so? Boy you are a sound sleeper.”

“Yes sirree… Not by being stupid, that's for sure!  Yes, he knows enough to keep out of trouble."  Dag Diez rose and went over to the other bed, shaking Kade Luir, who was feigning sleep.  "Hey, this is no time to be sleeping, I'm talking to you.  Open your eyes!  Are you making a mockery of me?"

Finally giving in, and checking his anger, Kade Luir pretended to being awakened. Then shaking his head and yawning, he exclaimed that he was still (groggy) tired and demanded that Dag be brief with whatever it is he had to say.

"Bah!  Who needs you?  Go back to your precious sleep if you like." the obnoxious Dag retorted in a gruff voice and waddled back to his chair.

02- DAG DIEZ

Before long he was singing the same tune to himself.  "That's right; he knows enough to keep in line.  He knows that ones Like Mouro, rich wastrels that they are, are too dangerous to be trifled with and deadly to offend.  I'm not sure, but Magistrate what's his name is, he might even be a distant relative."

Kade, now exasperated, sat up and resorted to fine reasoning to persuade the other to get some sleep.

"Sleep… Sleep?  Why should I?" rowdy Dag snarled as he ignored the drooling down his mouth.

"Eh, your kind will never understand."  Dag idly fingered the copper water pitcher.

"Imagine him having all the fun and not me!  I… stranded here with the likes of you!"  In a burst of anger, he hurled the pitcher violently against the wall above Kade's head.  Luckily there was very little water to spill.

Wiping the spray from his face, Kade Luir clenched his fists, not obliging Dag with a fight.  Quietly reclining again, he turned his face to the wall and remained that way, unresponsive to the vile, disgusting slanders, muttering and provocation of Dag.

"Oh, what's the use?"  His anger spent, his energy consumed by his temper, Dag Diez had finally consented to sleep.  "I might as well get some rest.  Of course you wouldn't take me on!  You know you'd lose.  You just look competent, but you're soft!"

As he pulled up his covers, fully clothed still, he muttered to himself, "And tomorrow, tomorrow, we'll see.  Eh, let him enjoy it while he can…ha, ha, ha!"

Dag’s sinister laughter grated on Kade's nerves.  “Won't he ever shut up?”  But the obnoxious filth kept pouring from Dag’s mouth well into the night until; finally, after several loud belches and yawns, he drifted into a deep, snoring slumber.

Unable to get any sleep Kade Luir tossed and turned then, sitting bolt upright, fixed his brooding gaze on the door, contemplating going after Mouro.

 But what would be the point?  What could he do anyhow?

"He's always preening (grooming) himself like a prize goose," the drunkard Dag stirred in his sleep, "but we'll see.  We'll see how much longer he'll enjoy this privilege."   He snorted a couple more times then rolled onto his other side and began snoring even more thunderously than before.

                                                                             ~

Mouro, meanwhile, after changing his clothes, had patiently waited until all the activity had abated outside his room then, bolting to his feet and with the sealed drum of fine wine tucked under his arm, he headed for the door.

"Don't wait for me, now."  He half turned to address the young waiter, Ted. “I’ll be a while; best you try to get some sleep." Stealing across the deserted dining hall in the dark, he quietly slipped outside and entered the stables.

Leading his horse by the reins, he walked the beast some measure away to the edge of the forest.  At this safe distance, he then vaulted into the saddle and galloped through into woods, disappearing in the paths among the thick foliage.

 He continued to press his fine mare for speed over hedges and ditches as man and mount covered an incredible distance in but a short time.  Finally, he arrived at his destination, the deserted ruins of a temple, hidden among the towering cliffs and ancient cypresses.  Dismounting, he led the mare cautiously across a dilapidated stone bridge spanning a bottomless chasm.

The sentries on duty at the other side were relieved to see that they had accosted Mouro.

03- GUARDS ON DUTY

Hecun, after the formal greeting, asked, "I am indeed pleased to see you, sir, but I feel constrained to inquire what purpose brings you here at this hour.  Were we not supposed to meet at the Magistrate's offices?  And where are your guards Kade Luir and Dag Diez?  I hope nothing untoward has happened to them."

"The guards… Oh no, dear old friend, they are sound asleep and dreaming of the girls or man back at the inn, no doubt."  Mouro's informal greeting put the Head Bailiff at ease.

"I know you're a stickler for protocol, but out here?" he clapped Hecun on the shoulder as they walked to a more private corner of the compound.

 "Let us dispense with the formalities of office.  I'd rather address you as in the past, eh, Elder Brother, if it’s all right."

He waited for Hecun's nod of assent before resuming, "As for my reason for (stealthily, covertly) coming here, I've taken these great pains in hopes of delivering you from an anticipated dread predicament.  Why else?  Tell me, are your water rations not depleted?  That's what I thought; I would have been greatly surprised if they hadn't.  Let's see your map."

Mouro sketched a line of route on the parchment Hecun provided.  "Now, if you start tomorrow along this shortcut I've indicated and, upon reaching the fork, keep to the left for about a day and a half, you should without much difficulty reach the modest inn I'm thinking of.  There one can have their fill of drink and gorge on generous portions of deliciously prepared meals at a fraction of the normal cost which will, no doubt, also please the men.  The proprietor is a bit eccentric, however.  Advise the men not to stare or make any rude remarks about the ugly scar on his face.  No one knows to this day, I suspect, who inflicted it on him many years ago but, if you keep on his good side, he'll lavish you with hospitality, the like of which you have never before experienced.

"But tell me, Elder Brother," Mouro looked at the encampment about him, "surely you had more men than this when you embarked on this journey."

"Two hundred to be exact," Hecun nodded.  "Along the way we suffered several setbacks.  Some were killed and others tried to desert and were appropriately punished but it would take too long for me to go into that right now."  He hoped that Mouro would press him for the details.

"Quite right, we can discuss at length all that later.  We have more immediate concerns we need to address now." came Mouro's disappointing response.

"I'll say this, however," Hecun could not hold back, "along the way we even had a run-in with Zonar but, oddly enough, he opted not to engage us or attempt to free the prisoner."

Robbing the other (Hecun) once more, of a chance to boast, Mouro interrupted. "May I make a suggestion, then?  Since there is no real danger to speak of in this province, and since that cowardly assassin was obviously issuing only empty threats, why should you continue on these remote paths?  Why put yourself and your men through unnecessary hardships?  After a brief stay at the inn, I told you about you can keep to the highway and, in less than three days’ time, you can arrive with ease at Magistrate Rue's offices.  I'll be riding on ahead to inform His Honor of your arrival.  I really should be there now, if it weren't for this detour.”

“Hmm…  Micen Do will be furious about the delay and, no doubt, demand my head on a platter upon our return.  Don't worry, though.  He doesn't scare me one bit and, besides, I know how to deal with him.  As I see it, this was unavoidable.  I had to make amends when, a few days back, it suddenly dawned on me that I had neglected to mention the location of the only well at this temple which still contained water.  Yes, brother, there is another one located here other than the two obvious dry ones you have already discovered.  I stumbled across it quite by accident some years back when I was caught in a similar predicament.  Feeling responsible as I did, I took appropriate measures and raced here over some treacherous terrain in the hope of meeting up with you tonight."

"I'm indebted to you for your concern and trouble." Hecun thanked Mouro gratefully.  "Now, brother, if you'd be so kind as to direct me there."

04-KADE LUIR

"Wait, there will be time for it soon enough." Mouro held up a hand, smiling.  "First, I've brought a surprise with me.  I know how fond you are of good wine and had anticipated that you'd be craving a good cup just about now.  If, by some misfortune, I had not met up with you tonight I had planned to leave it hidden here along with the instructions on the whereabouts of the well.  Please allow me to have the drum fetched for you now."  Mouro called for the guard.

Mouths watered and neck craned to observe the unloading of the special drum from Mouro’s horse and its transport over to Mouro.  The guards looked on with hungry, yearning eyes as they waited with trepidation for their turn to partake of the sure to be a rare wine.  They hoped there would be plenty to go round once Hecun and Mouro had had their fill.

Mouro, after a sly grin, called for a cup as he, at the same time, unsealed the mouth of the small barrel.  Filling it to the brim, he ceremoniously presented it to Hecun who received it with appropriate thanks then, politely smiling, put the cup down and called for another cup to be brought.

Filling this one to the brim, Hecun reciprocated the courtesy to Mouro and proposed, "Let us drink together one more time for old times' sake, before we are joined by the others."

"You are too polite.  All right, brother, we'll drink to your good health and to a long, prosperous life."  Mouro grimaced as he obligingly received the cup.  Subsequently, as custom decreed, each deferred the honors of first toast to the other.

After a few turns, Hecun unable to resist any longer, congenially toasted, "To our lasting friendship," before he raised the cup to his lips and was about to gulp it down all in one go when, Mouro, suddenly assuming a stern visage, in a flash discarded his own cup to the side and violently knocked Hecun's cup from his hands, spilling entire contents of the wine all over the bailiff's face and garments.

 "What disgraceful conduct?  How dare you insult me in this manner?" Mouro stormed.

 "You may be my elder, but I'm still your superior and don't you forget it!"  He shook a threatening finger in Hecun's face.

"And you stay out of this!" Mouro turned to lash out at the sergeant Tubak who, (standing by at close proximity,) aimed to intercede on behalf of his commander.

 Mouro once more reverted his menacing gaze back to the Head bailiff and, with curses on his lips, he demanded, "How dare you be so presumptuous?  How dare you behave in this outrageous manner, just because I'm kind enough to treat you with courtesy?"

Aghast (shocked, appalled), Hecun's face flushed and, even though he did not know what he’d done to offend Mouro, finding his tongue, rushed to apologize, but there was no placating (mollifying) Mouro. 

Placed on the defensive, inwardly Hecun remained most resentful of Mouro's inconsistencies, “What kind of game are you playing at?  How dare you set me up, make me breach etiquette, then make me lose face in front of my men like this?”  

Head Bailiff Hecun just wanted to squash this upstart, ungrateful vermin like a bug, but knew only too well of Mouro's hot temper and obstinate nature; therefore, he wisely opted to suffer passively and with total restraint, this heaved, unending abuse, hoping that Mouro's anger would summarily be spent (pass).

Far from being appeased, Mouro was, in fact, further antagonized. He bellowed furiously, "Why in blazes did I take all this trouble…For the likes of you?  You're beneath my contempt!"  Scoffing, he sprung to his feet and stormed away into the darkness.

Alarmed, Hecun raced after Mouro, still apologizing. Eventually he caught up with him beyond the courtyard and, in a hot pursuit, dashed after him behind a half-collapsed tower. The moment he’d entered the full darkness, however, a hand extended from under the dilapidated flight of stairs and forcefully yanked (pulled) Hecun into the ink black crevice, where he was brought face to face with Mouro.

Hecun's fear soon abated when, in a passive voice, Mouro explained, "You can stop worrying now, brother.  I'm not at all offended.  It was a charade, enacted for their benefit."

"Whose benefit,” Dumbfounded Hecun strained to see more clearly.  "What madness is this?"

Moving out of the shadows, his hand still clasping Hecun's shoulder, Mouro smiled wryly.  "Rest assured, my faculties are intact…  I couldn't go through with it, anyhow.  Still, I had to stop you from drinking it, while casting suspicion, that the drink was spiked."

"The wine was spiked.  What are you talking about?" Hecun asked in exasperation.  "We have no enmity between us, why should you try to poison me?"

"You're not listening," Mouro snapped.  "The wine is perfectly fine; they only think it's laced with poison, and I had to play along with the pretense."

Now it was Hecun's turn to be temperamental, "Your inference to 'they"…  Just who are 'they'?  Why do you talk in riddles, or is this just another one of your underhanded ploys to make me look like the fool?  Are you purposefully trying to muddle me?"

"There are turncoats, you fool!  Renegades planted among your men."

"Are you sure?  How do you know this?  Who are they?  How many are there?  Tell me and I'll have their black hearts torn from their chest."  Hecun clenched his fist repetitively.

"I don't know who they are."  Mouro shrugged and walked away.  "I came to know of their existence myself only quite recently, but I didn't have the means to find out their numbers, but I surmise it must be over thirty.  In any case, it’s up to you to flush (hunt) them out."  Reading confusion and disbelief on Hecun's face, he continued, "You still need convincing, don't you?  Why must you always be so obstinate?  I should be furious with you for not trusting me but, oh, all right, I'll start at the beginning and clarify this situation for you, even though I'm pressed for time.”

"Listen, my coming here tonight was not accidental, nor was my failure to tell you about the functioning well. The purpose was obviously other than the one I expressed in front of the men."  He cleared his throat.  "Actually, I was instructed by Micen.  Yes, Micen Do.  Now, don't interrupt.  I was instructed by him to deliver some poisoned wine to you as part of a diabolical plot to bring about the demise of yourself and your men, saving the spies who were obviously warned not to drink the wine."

"But why would Micen want to kill me?" Hecun injected in surprise.  "I was never out of line with him.  I served him loyally for all those years and did nothing to incur his enmity.  What could he gain from my death?"

"You were only the instrument, the insignificant pawn, please forgive my saying so, who had to be sacrificed in the scheme of things.  It had nothing to do with you personally, or with your performance of your duty. “Mouro explained dismally.  "You think you mattered anything to him at all?  Your only fault was that you let yourself become expendable.  Added to that, your mission was doomed from the start, even if you had survived the ambush and other conceivable dangers on the road as you have done.  Yes, I'm well aware of the traps you've avoided all along the way in order to reach this point.  Never mind how I know."  He held up his hand to stay any questions from Hecun.  "Even the desertions you experienced earlier, I suspect, were the workings of the implanted spies, working within to assure your perilous end.

"It would have been their objective to reduce the numbers of those to be doomed way before now and, no doubt, you played right into their hands.  You would have done better, my friend, to have, just this once, acted contrary to your nature, to have made concessions and exceptions to the rules.  Your flaw, besides being too predictable, is that you're a stickler for rules and regulations.  Don't you see how much of an easy target that makes you, how much more vulnerable?  Never mind, it’s pointless to harp on that now."

"How deep is this conspiracy, anyway?" Hecun grumbled, gritting his teeth.

Mouro, agitated, turned away.  "Listen well and you'll learn the extent of it."

                                                                                ~

(END OF SECTION 32)