LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 3

Cold shivers gripped Lu’s heart, and his face contorted with sadness as he recalled the horrific details of so long ago.  In his anguish, he bit his lip so hard that blood trickled down his chin and onto his bare chest. He, oblivious to the trail of blood, spoke of the tragic demise of his wife who had been tortured at length and then made to witness as her only son’s life was snuffed (extinguished), all, in order to extract information from her, concerning Lu's whereabouts.

 "But how could she tell them anything? I had left under cover of night without a word to anyone. The mission demanded absolute secrecy. And for that, she was … (Lu’s tongue froze, for he could not bring himself to say it,) until... ah, such inconceivable cruelty! To think men is capable of, could conceive such extreme torment (abuse)!"  Lu lamented, shedding more tears, "If only I had the foresight, I would rather have ended their lives swiftly myself and spared them such agony."

Realizing the fetters of providence that linked him with Lu, Nevetsecnuac dropped to his knees and bowed respectfully to the beggar before him.

"What's come over you, son?” Lu rushing over pulled him to his feet.

"You were one of the elite guards dispatched by Lord Shonne Gulbrand to deliver Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon to safety, were you not?"

"Yes, but how can you know that?” Lu cried in astonishment. "Clearly you are not what you seem…. Who are you really, sir?"

Svein’s (Nevetsecnuac’s) reply was cut short by a violent gust of wind that sprang up instantly within the room, rattling the windows. The flames of the fire grew dim and then rekindled, spewing forth a dense smoke that rolled across the room like a fog to obscure their vision. Nevetsecnuac rubbed his eyes to clear his sight, then, looking up, saw a man's form standing by the scroll. Nevetsecnuac, springing to his feet, called out, "Who's there? Who are you, sir?"

The apparition made no reply.

Fearing a spy, Lu had also sprung to his feet and, muscles tensed, craned his neck to squint in the direction Svein was speaking.  He saw nothing.  "What is it?” he half turned and shouted at Svein in alarm.

"Can't you see him?” Nevetsecnuac pointed, barely able to make out the figure himself now that it had retreated into the shadows.

"See what?” Lu snapped at Svein, still unable to see anything out of the ordinary.  "Your eyes must be playing tricks on you."

Puzzled, Nevetsecnuac took a bold step toward the mute ghost, but the phantasm instantly vanished into thin air.  When Nevetsecnuac halted or took a step back the figure re-emerged. Accordingly, the apparition moved back and forth, dimmed, and then appeared evasively by the fire.

"Sir, we humbly ask that you identify yourself.  Please make your wishes known to us.” Nevetsecnuac respectfully bowed to the seemingly irresolute ghost while his eyes tracked the wavering image.

Tugging at Svein's sleeve, Lu urged, "Hurry, describe him to me!  What does he look like?"

"He's tall, thin, fair of hair and dressed in a light blue robe.  Wait a minute, there's an embroidered crest on his garment. It looks like," again Nevetsecnuac’s head moved to follow the roaming spirit, "yes, like a golden sword over a coiled black serpent."

"Heavens be merciful!” Lu's face turned ashen, and tears pricked his eyes.  Frantically dropping to his knees in the direction of the apparition, in supplication he touched his forehead to the floor repeatedly and implored Lord Shonne Gulbrand to show his countenance to him also.

In accordance, Nevetsecnuac prostrated himself also before the Lord's image, expressing eternal gratitude to him.  After repeating his vow of vengeance upon Zakhertan Yozdek, tears streaming down his face, he then requested for the reason for the Lord's manifestation, promising to fulfill any of Lord Shonne Gulbrand's wishes to the best of his ability.

It was after Lu intoned the same request and bowed his head respectfully that the Lord's image became visible to him as well.

The apparition, now more defined, floated towards Nevetsecnuac, riding atop the fluorescent clouds.  His distinguished, noble presence awed Nevetsecnuac but, before he could bow once more, the specter of Shonne Gulbrand gave a respectful bow to the prince instead.  The ghost's expression, though tired and grim, was affectionate and he gave an approving nod to Nevetsecnuac as a fleeting smile grazed his lips.

02- GHOST OF SHONNE GULBRAND

 When Nevetsecnuac looked up questioningly to the Lord, he saw a single tear trickle from the apparition's eye to land wetly on Nevetsecnuac’s forehead.  Though no words were exchanged, the prince understood just then the reason for the Lord's visitation and touched his head to the floor in obeisance.  When he looked up again the figure had disappeared; Nevetsecnuac’ eyes drawn to Lu, beheld the other’s baffled and questioning gaze.

In all these years, Lu had pondered; my Lord has never graced these premises.  What would prompt this visit now?  Who is this youth before me that he merits such honor and respect from such a High Lord?  Unless...  Just then Lu's eyes widened, his face flushed a deep crimson and his jaw fell-open as he stared at Svein.  Could this be?  Is this youth the baby prince left in Lord Asger Zhon's care?

 "You!” Lu cried out with an alarm and pointed at Svein. “You!” another cry escaped his Lips before his throat constricted and drowned any hope of further utterance.

Nevetsecnuac rushed to stop the trembling Lu from dropping to his knees and, overriding the old soldier's protests, picked him up and placed him in the chair by the bed.  The prince then prostrating, expressed his gratitude for the great sacrifices and the hardships Lu had had to endure, all for his sake.

The series of exciting events, all in the span of but a few hours, had proven too much for Lu.  Once he had been a mighty warrior, blessed with great prowess, but old age, and the ravages and angst of the past two decades had taken their toll.  This sudden shock made his head throb, then his eyes began to swim and shortly after he lost all focus.  All his energy drained rapidly from his body, and he swooned.

 Nevetsecnuac reacted swiftly and, reaching forward, stopped Lu from sliding off of the chair. He then picked Lu up and gently placed him on the bed.

 

Assured by his still strong pulse that the old soldier was still among the living, Nevetsecnuac thoughtfully covered him with the quilt then, picking up a cracked cup from the desk, went outside to collect some rainwater.  Returning when it was full, he wiped Lu's forehead and face with a wet rag.  Gradually the color returned to Lu's ashen, sallow cheeks and he stirred.

"What happened?” his eyes partly opening, he groaned.  Then, when his memory became more acute, he strove to rise but Nevetsecnuac’s hand restrained him.

On Nevetsecnuac's insistence, he was forced to take things in stride and, with some assistance, drained the cool rainwater from the cup.  Sometime later when he was more able, he sat up and the two spent until the small hours of the morning exchanging heartfelt sorrows, greetings, gratitude, and stories.

 It was then that Nevetsecnuac first heard of the atrocities committed in the past by Zakhertan  Yozdek before and after his usurpation of power and the existence of a (few seconds’) younger,  twin to Lord Shonne Gulbrand.

"Identical in appearance though they may have been,” Lu said, "they could not have been more different in character.  As goodness and virtue were the qualities of Lord Shonne, the opposite could quite easily have been said of his twin, born fifteen minutes later, Khronolf, who led a totally vile, debauched Life.

03-KHRONOLF GULBRAND - SHON 'S TWIN

 Coveting the inherited title of the firstborn, Khronolf harbored great jealousy and resentment for Shonne and secretly plotted to have him murdered.  Being a weak-willed character though, he delayed carrying out his designs.

The flaws in his character grew progressively worse with each passing birthday and the worse he became the more he was shunned by his parents, relatives, peers, and any worthwhile gentlefolk.  Frustration stemming from these thwarted desires drove Khronolf ever closer to despair until he was literally consumed by his madness.  By then his cruelty knew no bounds and many unfortunates suffered at his hand.  When he finally amassed enough courage to make, albeit a bungled attempt, on Shonne's life, the plot was easily exposed and, in exasperation, he turned his sword on his hapless wife, then himself.

"His only surviving offspring, Dwenng Gulbrand, was away at the time but his heart too, after years of coaching by his father, was poisoned against Lord Shonne.  Nevertheless, after this family tragedy, Lord Shonne Gulbrand adopted the boy and raised him as his own.

Dwenng Gulbrand was provided with proper tutelage and every means of luxury, he lacked for nothing.  The ungrateful wretch concealed his true nature and hid his ill feelings towards his uncle, biding his time until he had acquired the necessary skills to murder his uncle and usurp his title.”

"Underneath the pretext of an amiable good nature, Dwenng was as vicious and cunning as any fanged viper.  Trusted by his uncle, he had accumulated, in due time, the most damaging information about the Lord."

04- DWENGG GULBRAND - (KHRONOLF'S SON)

At this point, Nevetsecnuac's thoughts strayed to Hacket Erling, who had adopted similar tactics to gain the trust of Asger and himself and whose fabrications had a strange blend of truth woven through it after all.

"Despite his pure, perfect, placid crust, Dwenng had failed to control what seemed to be a seemingly harmless vice, his lechery.”  Lu's voice was steeped in disgust.  "Always on the prowl, he delighted in corrupting then injuring chaste women by a range of devious or forceful means.  Unfortunately, these vile acts went undetected by Lord Shonne Gulbrand, who was increasingly burdened by state affairs.”

 “Zakhertan Yozdek had by then usurped the throne and, with the aid of his vast armies, had swiftly and effectively consolidated his power throughout the Empire.  Unable to reverse this sweeping tide, Lord Shonne had led an underground campaign against the usurper.  His struggle was still in its infancy when he successfully effected the escape of Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon and the infant Prince Nevetsecnuac, which is you, Your Grace.” Lu took another sip or two from the cup to quench his thirst, before continuing.

“Now where was I? Oh, yes. With such weighty concerns on his mind, is it any wonder that Dwenng's misdeeds escaped his attention?  Meanwhile, Dwenng's mortified victims fearing reprisals from the wretch dared not bring forth any charges before the Lord or his courts. But Dwenng's numerous conquests, over time, had fed his arrogance and he eventually grew careless.  On Spirit’s Day, not unlike this one, Dwenng happened to cast his cursed eyes on the beautiful wife, Alva, of Assistant Magistrate Birger at the Ayen Temple.  Lusting after her, the charlatan wielded the power of his position to arrange a secret admission to her home in broad daylight when Birger was away.  Of course, his intent was to molest Alva.” Lu swallowed hard and shook his head, still very much incensed.

“Surprising the good woman in her bed chamber he tried to force his attentions on Alva, daring even to threaten her when she rejected his forceful advances.  If she screamed, she would be found in a most compromising position, and he would not hesitate to ruin her reputation and tarnish her husband's good name by claiming she was once his long-standing mistress.  Dwenng would claim that her heart had only recently turned cold towards him and so she attempted to rid herself of her pesky lover by playing the part of the virtuous wife who had been terribly wronged.  As a threatening gesture, a bluff, Dwenng opened his mouth to call out to the servants and make public this fabricated declaration.” “The poor woman must have been frantic, according to hearsay; she fell to her knees, pleading with him to show mercy.  Yes, Alva pleaded with him, but it was in vain because the wretch could not be deterred.  Most of this is part of the court records."  Lu explained, with fire in his eyes and still Livid, his teeth gnashed together in contempt.

"The villain still tried to force himself on her and, seeing no way out of it, and seeking a way to spare her husband from this great humiliation, Alva pretended to accede to his wishes, if only they could meet elsewhere in secret where they would not be found out.  The cur, with some reluctance, agreed to be patient until they could spend an entire, intimate evening together the following fortnight.  He left her side, grinning, and spent the rest of the night drinking and carousing with his cronies.

"That night Alva waited until Birger had fallen asleep, quietly kissed him, and then slipped out from under the covers.  Going to the library Alva wrote to her beloved husband a tragic farewell letter that explained the circumstances and implored him not to take any action against Dwenng.  She begged him to forget her and remarry as soon as possible to one whose beauty would never cause him such trouble.  They found the letter dotted with the stains of her tears, on the desk in the morning, her cold corpse hanging above it by a silken cord.

"Yes, in her prime Alva was cheated out of a happy life.  She was but nineteen and had died because of a lecher!  Oh, delicate flower crushed by that...” Lu bit his lip and turned his head away to hide his pained expression.  Despite his attempts of restraint however, his heart so pained him that, he loosened his clenched fist to now massage his chest.

Observing the play of emotions, Nevetsecnuac questioned Lu, "Was Alva a close relation to you?  Certainly, you knew her well."

Lu's fleeting smile only deepened the furrows on his forehead revealing his inner struggle.  After some brooding, he nodded, resolved to admit the truth.  With his voice quivering he said, "Yes, I knew her well.  She was our neighbor's daughter.  Oh, how beautiful she was, so frail yet blessed with such a luminous character."  He spoke as if in reverie, "They lived only a few houses down from us.  As children, we used to play together and got along quite well. As an adolescent (teenager), she was particularly fond of horses and loved riding.  Alas, later I left for the Capital to enter the Royal Military Academy and, when my postings after graduation took me away on campaigns, we lost touch with each other. “

 “I have never forgotten her though,” Lu looked ill at ease.  Regret and pain contorted his face.  As a man of high morals, he found it hard to admit, to bare his soul to another, that he’d once secretly and deeply been in love with her, an enduring love that to date still gripped his heart.  Shame, remorse, despair, love and loneliness entangled him anew and he coughed repeatedly as if to break free of this constraint.

ALVA

After a spell of brooding, he resumed his narrative, "After my military service, when I returned home to the service of Lord Gulbrand, my parents brought up the subject of my marriage.  With a joyful heart, I expressed my desire to wed Alva, only to have my hopes dashed when I was informed of her engagement to another.  It was too late.  I cursed my stupidity, my negligence and my oversight and quietly accepted the choice my parents had made for me.”

"Strange", Lu mumbled to himself," even after all this time, the memory of her loss is so painful, with the tightness gripping my chest, I can barely breathe, much less ruminate (dwell on) …."

 Then, smiling sheepishly, he turned to Nevetsecnuac and added in a stammer, "But, of course, I had loved her from afar, and later, when I wed, I learned to love my dear wife and the pain in my young heart became but a distant memory."  As if to extricate himself, Lu rattled on about how his wife had been virtuous and loving, and how much joy their lovely boy she bore him had brought to his life as he watched him grow till age four.  But Lu's forceful repudiations only helped reinforce the unrequited love he still bore deep in his heart for Birger's wife Alva, now a ghost.

A ghost, Nevetsecnuac inwardly queried. Could she be the visiting apparition earlier on?

 

(END OF SECTION 3)

 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 2

As they walked side by side toward the old, pompous establishment, Lu reflected on the stir his mere presence would beget. Visualizing the consequential mayhem gave him such immense satisfaction that he beamed a broad smile.

 Grinning, he glanced frequently at Svein to observe this youth's striking good looks and honorable bearing. Now that he thought about it, Svein's features did conjure up a faint image in his memory, but he could not tell exactly who this youth reminded him of.

Turning this way and that, they finally reached the ostentatious-looking place, with its gaudy decorations, where strange music wafted to the outside. Boldly leading the way, Lu quickly mounted the stairs and entered the establishment. He sat himself squarely at a table by the window across from Svein and called for the waiter.

Due to the lateness of the hour, as Lu had anticipated, there were no troublesome officials or constables about and so the place was only half full.

 The brazen few, being their usual obnoxious selves, were engaging all the six or eight waiters that scurried around to serve them.  The proprietor, turning away from mollifying a distinguished-looking customer in a private corner, sighted a common beggar seated across from a fine-looking gentleman, and became so incensed that he volleyed a torrent of abuse upon Lu, endeavoring to drive him away.

The disgruntled, snotty waiter that had walked away with their order, on hearing the commotion, had poked his head out of the kitchen in time to witness the return volley of curses from Lu, and the apologies from his boss as he quickly snatched the silver.

 The waiter quickly concealed his bemused smirk however when the proprietor, red-faced with swollen eyes flashing fire and grumbling under his breath, burst into the kitchen to bellow an order of complimentary drinks for Lu and Svein.  Meanwhile the very presence of a beggar had so outraged some haughty customers that, one after another they rose and took their leave in a huffing hurry, sending the waiters and the proprietor into a flurry of activity and humble apologies.

This outrageous treatment of Lu so vexed Nevetsecnuac’s sense of fairness that with a long face he contemplated leaving the premises in disgust; only he did not know how best to propose this to Lu without offending him. His absentminded stare rested on the steamy soup that was just then placed before them as the first course.

"It would be the same anywhere else.” Lu shook his head, surmising what was on Svein's mind.  “Provided that is, another kitchen would be open on this particular night.”

He wrinkled his nose, nonchalantly snorted, then picked up a wooden spoon continued to noisily slurp his hot soup. 

Lu's stubbornness and courage won him, Nevetsecnuac’s admiration. With an assenting smile Nevetsecnuac joined him in sipping the soup, though he did not find it particularly tasteful.

Unperturbed by all the hidden scorn, contemptuous looks and jeers of the waiters and few remaining customers, Lu, downed numerous large cups of the house brew, which oddly enough had little effect on him, and polished off with obvious relish several plates of the restaurant's choice entrees. He then leaned back contentedly in his chair and rubbed his swollen stomach. Adopting purposeful ill manners, he belched loudly then addressed Svein at a resounding volume for all to hear, "I would like to propose that we frequent this place from now on. The service may leave much to be desired, but the food is satisfactory enough for my discriminating palate. What do you say, my young friend?"

The room was plunged instantly into deathly silence. The mortified proprietor, masking his look of dismay, looked searchingly into the eyes of the few remaining, vexed customers with a reassuring smile on his lips that seemed to say, “They will not set foot in here again. Not if I can help it!”

Nevetsecnuac, suppressing his laughter, nodded, and loudly concurred with Lu, "I would be most happy to, sir; how about tomorrow and the night after that?"

"I have no other pressing engagements next two days, so yes, I will be at your disposal.” Lu winked.

A cold shudder went up the proprietor's spine as he scurried off to hide once more in the kitchen. Shortly after, the customers heard him scolding the staff inside as he vented his anger on the hapless cook and kitchen staff.

 

                                                                             ~

 

When Nevetsecnuac and Lu finally left the premises in the small hours of the night only shadows inhabited the lonely street. Immediately after their departure all the lights of the establishment were quickly turned off (extinguished), all windows tightly shut and the door hastily locked and bolted.

Nevetsecnuac and Lu rounded the corner in silence, then, unable to constrain themselves any longer, burst out in roars of laughter, scaring the lone stray cat onto the rooftop.

“I thank you sir, for this joyous relief.”  Lu wiped away happy tears from the corners of his eyes, “I don’t know how long it’s been since I last laughed.” 

He then thanked Svein (Nevetsecnuac) with a certain elegance for his hospitality. As they continued their seemingly aimless stroll down the street Lu looked up and sang praises to the hazy full moon that, from time to time, peeped teasingly out from behind the dark clouds and bathed the streets in a silver glaze.  The cool breeze, in a symphony with his song, from time to time, sent swirls of dust and debris dancing into the air, choking their lungs, stuffing their noses, and reddening their eyes. Despite this, Lu continued (carried on) with his lively, gay tunes.

"You were too polite to question me during dinner, and even after.” Lu suddenly stopped singing, looked down and thoughtfully shook his head. As Nevetsecnuac searched for the right words to say, Lu now gazed intently at his face, his expression suddenly serious.

  "But this is no place to talk.” he held out a restraining hand until a solitary cloaked stranger that had suddenly appeared, just as swiftly disappeared from view.

 "I would like, however, to invite you to my humble dwelling, where we may converse at length away from any prying eyes and ears. You may not see them, but they are there. This particular neighborhood is full of busybodies."  He shouted out the last sentence, almost as a dare. When Svein (Nevetsecnuac) made a gesture of assent, Lu urged, "Then let us hasten away from here.   Around the bend, on Luckdown Street, we can be at ease. Whatever you do, avoid Royal, Temple, and Court Streets like the plague. That's where the lofty and powerful live, and of course you must shun Imperial Street where the magistrate's offices are."

He had kept up a fast pace while he imparted this council to Svein, his tone no less compassionate and sincere than that of a father addressing a son. Another gusting wind rising just then, swathed the entire region in an oppressive, pitch darkness.  Moments later a heavy downpour mercilessly drummed on their heads, sending the few stray cats and dogs scurrying for cover. Lightning flashed and thunderbolts crashed intermittently around them.

"This way, son,” Lu, with renewed vigor, hastened his steps, veering around many corners to finally lead them to the most isolated part of the town. His good humor still with him, Lu chuckled repeatedly to himself, "I needed a good wash anyway."

This most desolate part of the street was flanked by the ghostly ruins of once grand mansions. 

“Watch your step!” Lu warned; hop skipping the checkered uneven ground with the vitality of a young boy as he continued to lead the way.

Predictably stolen for use elsewhere, Svein mused, observing the unsightly gaps in cobblestones that had once paved the road but were now filled with rainwater.  

 "You won't believe it from the look of things, but these once stately homes used to belong to important dignitaries (notables, personages) and this street once thronged with luxurious carriages day and night. Over there...” he stopped, as the pelting rain cascading down over the brim of his straw hat like strings of pearls effectively concealed his pained look.

 "But the calamities of the past decade have reduced them to this state!” he resumed.

 "Yes, this neighborhood has had its share of grief which, I'm afraid, would be too long in telling. Now, even thieves dare not venture here, for fear of the were-foxes and avenging spirits said to inhabit the ruins."  Throwing his head back he let out a bitter laugh.

“As if the dead would be more terrifying than the…. Ha!”

A few steps further Lu stopped and announced with a grand gesture of his hand, "We have arrived at long last."

He swiftly climbed in twos and threes the dilapidated stone steps flanked by the badly maimed statues of guardian deities and, with some effort, pushed to open a tall gate whose blue-green paint was further peeled by the pelting rain.  The scarred stone pillar foundations, precarious brick walls, several dilapidated doors leading to phantom rooms with rotting wooden beams overhead mottled with moss and a thick layer of dust greeted them inside.

 Several Lighting flashes streaking in through wide gaps lit the hallway with a ghostly sheen. With the aid of a lamp, they made their way down the wide, empty, dark corridor as cobwebs frequently brushed against Nevetsecnuac’s face while the smells of mildew mixed with moldering earth assailed his nose.  Their footsteps sent an occasional pair of shining red eyes scurrying into the corner and the flashes of lightning sent writhing patches of carpet flowing into the wall.

Nevetsecnuac and Lu ambled to the rear of the house and descended a flight of stone steps to reach an eerie courtyard where ancient trees obscured the sky, and mist stirred the tall grass and rank vegetation. Badly corroded bronze columns lined the maze of pathways that was paved with stones of varied sizes.

Strangely enough though, the air here was laden with the fragrance of flowers, their sweet, exotic perfume conquering the musty and rank decaying matter that surrounded them. The snaking route, flanked by cassia trees, delivered them to the shores of a manufactured (man-made) lake.  Traversing a small, stone bridge they followed a zigzag path that led them through a garden of magnolia to a maze of fences which they twisted and turned, to get through.

 Holding onto a stone balustrade they mounted another flight of sandstone stairs, passed through a moon gate, and finally arrived at another set of buildings.  When Lu pushed open the door at the far end of the hall its creaking sound startled the principal inhabitant of the room; a large, male bat.  In greeting he flapped his wings and brushed their heads as he circled above them to disappear behind a wooden ceiling beam.

"He's harmless.” Lu reassured Svein (Nevetsecnuac). "I don't know why, but he prefers to share this space with me rather than mingle with his friends in the other rooms."

A cursory glance revealed to Nevetsecnuac a partially burned mahogany bed with its tattered quilt, small table, makeshift chair, camphor-wood chest and a pile of firewood in the corner.  These salvaged furnishings were all that afforded Lu any comfort here.

"It's not much, but it’s home.  Now, do not go feeling sorry for me." Lu admonished with good humor, surmising Svein's thoughts. "Its best we chuck (shed, discard) these wet things and hang them to dry, or we'll catch our death of cold."

As Nevetsecnuac made to comply, a sudden breeze, fragrant with orchid, jasmine, and musk, rushed into the room, making the flame on Lu's lamp quiver, almost extinguishing it.  Placing the lamp onto the table, Lu turned, "I hope you don't mind my frequent visitor?"

Nevetsecnuac’s response froze on his lips when he felt a silky cloth brush against him then a cold, invisible hand lightly caressed his cheek and gently stroked his hair. Checking his taut nerves, he inquired about the ghost's identity.

"I wish I knew, but she has never revealed her gracious countenance to me, nor has she favored me with a solitary word. I only feel her presence occasionally when I'm in here."

 He winked and added with a chuckle, "There's no cause for alarm, for she has not injured me thus far."

Nevetsecnuac smiled to cover his embarrassment and looked away. Suddenly his attention was caught by a scroll mounted on the far wall. Drawing near, he craned his neck and strained his eyes to read the verses, barely visible in the dim Light. Almost instantly he jerked his head back in amazement and his eyes misted. He had recognized a remarkably familiar calligraphy.

"His Lordship's words on loyalty are forever engraved on my heart and soul.” Lu proudly announced then went on to recite the verses straight from memory. "That scroll is the first and last thing I have greeted every day for the last nineteen years of my Life. It is a pity you are too young to have known the noble Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon.  Ah, but there is so much you don't know, so much that needs to be told."  Sighing he left Nevetsecnuac’s side to shake the quilt and then invited his guest to make himself comfortable.

Mechanically, Nevetsecnuac sat on the edge of the bed.  Oblivious to the dampness of the room which chilled him to the marrow, Nevetsecnuac lent an ear to the rain and incessant winds that moaned through the grove of tall cypresses outside. This, compounded with the plaintive shrilling of insects from their shelters inside created a lugubrious consonance that resembled the ghosts' lamentation and oppressed his soul into abysmal depths.  Hot tears welled up in his eyes as he vacantly stared at the small fire Lu had just constructed in a corner. The dancing flames recalled those of a remote cabin where a happy group had enjoyed a peaceful life.

Wrapped in mournful reflections as well, Lu pulled up the makeshift chair beside Svein (Nevetsecnuac) and sat quietly.

 "I wish I could offer you some tea, especially on a bitter night such as this.” he apologized, breaking the veil of silence between them.

"This used to be my favorite study", he said, gazing around him at the bare wood, "but all is gone now; the books, paintings, scrolls, the furnishings, even the...”  He dropped his head and lapsed into silence, loneliness gnawing at his heart despite his present companion.

Nevetsecnuac managed a few words of solace to lighten the mood.

A fleeting, polite smile brushed Lu's lips as he responded, "Please forgive me sir; you have not come all this way to be burdened with my troubles. I am obliged to you for your patience and understanding. Despite our vast age difference, you have been a receptive companion…. Still..."  Lu heaved a deep sigh; his features cast in melancholy as he knitted his brows and stared blankly into the distance. His soul in obvious torment, he fidgeted in his seat then jumped up in irritation and began pacing the room, muttering incomprehensible jargon to himself.

"How I do carry on like a madman!” shamefaced, he sat down again.  "Things have been bottled up in me for so long that...”  He looked up at Svein apologetically and, encouraged by the empathetic smile and understanding nod, he resumed. "Had I not been away at the time I, too, would have joined them and would not be here tonight, talking to you like this. Alas, everything in life is pre-ordained."  Once more he stalled, gazing vacantly at the far wall through the tears misting his eyes. "But it’s hard…And why, why did they have to perish so painfully? Why were they fated to suffer such torment?"

(END OF SECTION 2)

 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 1

It seemed as if an immeasurable time had passed, since Nevetsecnuac had forged ahead towards Lord Shonne Gulbrand's province that lay on route to the Capital. 

All through his travels and encounters Nevetsecnuac noted the prevailing and encompassing currents of fear and despair that emanated from the perpetual clampdown on the population.  It was heart wrenching to observe the already ravaged individuals striving to survive under the tyrannical rule of the oppressive bureaucrats and their minions, who imposed impossibly burdensome taxes, conscript labor and military service on all.

 What was worse was the disheartening lack of backbone, never mind the least hope for a spark of rebellion or the smallest inkling of any insurgency rising from the piled ashes of these enslaved masses. 

The option of capitulating, however, was not in Nevetsecnuac’s vocabulary…. And could not be so! Resolutely therefore Nevetsecnuac had consoled himself through it all, reflecting on the indomitable spirit of the Wenjenkun nation and the invincible fabric that had once forged this great nation, hoping against hope that it will do so yet again under the right circumstance and leadership, perhaps in five if not in eight year’s time.

                                                                            ~

Alas, Heng Erling, by his action of luring Nevetsecnuac prematurely from his safe mountain abode had irrevocably altered the course of Wenjenkun’s History.

                                                                              ~

It so happens that bad weather particularly downpours have their own surprising advantages. One of which is, when torrential rains ruthlessly pelt the inhabitants no one, including heavily armed guards manning the gates at border provinces, be in any mood to be fastidious or vigilant.  And so, on such a dismal afternoon, Nevetsecnuac properly disguised, blended right in with a returning group of merchants and their servants leading their heavily laden carts with varied goods, passing right through, without least trouble, the first two checkpoints.

The long caravan (Nevetsecnuec was in) later still halted before the iron gates and waited for the prompt dispensing of the customary bribe by the group’s leader before passing unimpeded this and the final checkpoint and entered the territory of Gulbrand province.  As dusk was quickly approaching, the group picked up momentum and hastened along the dirt road towards the nearest habitation.

Nevetsecnuac inconspicuously separating (at this point) from the pack, arrived at a modest inn at the outskirts of the village. Checking into a room and ordering simple fare, he made discreet inquiries about the state of affairs in Moulon.

The fact that Gulbrand’s name was shunned, however, confirmed Nevetsecnuac’s worst fears about the Lord’s fate. To his added dismay he learned that the province’s current ruling tyrant bore the name Shouzi Yozdek.

On the third day there was finally a welcome reprieve from the persistent deluge.  Settling his account, Nevetsecnuac quickly retrieved his horse from the stables and led him by the reins to negotiate the winding, narrow gravel path that eventually led to the outlying fields. The mid-day sun’s golden rays, streaming from the cerulean sky free of any clouds, now bathed the fields with the last remnants of a harvest resting in haystacks.  It should have been a heartwarming scene but here as well, Nevetsecnuac noted the bitter oppression that seemed permanently etched on the solemn, miserable faces of the peasants bending over toiling the land which they will do from sunup to sunset. 

A few days later when Nevetsecnuac, riding his horse rounded an extended hill, he observed in a vast clearing the most surprising scene. There in the distance was a most extraordinary, fortified, affluent border town, with high, gleaming golden towers and imposing tall gates. Access to it could only be gained through a drawbridge constructed over a deep moat.  Though reason told him to bypass this provincial town, something else compelled him to urge his horse towards it.  Perhaps it was a sense of justice and duty that compelled him to find out the fate of Lord Shonne Gulbrand or at least determine where the Lord's remains now rested so that he could pay his final respects and offer sacrifices and prayers to the benevolent Lord's soul.

Eventually the narrow path he was following converged with other better traveled roads to become a major highway leading to the hub.  Just on the outskirts of the town however, before reaching the moat, some roads veered towards several inns of various sizes that were nestled in a sparsely wooded area.  From these establishments lively sounds and appetizing aromas assailed the travelers' ears and noses, inviting them inside. 

Unlike so many of his counterparts, Nevetsecnuac chose a respectable one, rented a room and entrusted his horse to the custody of the stable hands.  Foregoing his meal in his eager anticipation, he then left the premises on foot and blended in with the crowd streaming into the town through the eastern gate just before dusk. 

This being the Day of the Spirits, he found most of the streets thronging with people and carriages.  The clamor of their voices mingled with the din of the procession.  Locals, clothed in their brightly colored garments, carrying lamps and offerings to their dead were flooding into the temples, lit up like day, where invocations and prayers were being offered.

Trying to be inconspicuous, Nevetsecnuac moved to one of the less crowded temples to pay his respects to the dead.  Dispensing money in a bowl, he took some candles and offerings and placed them on the altar of the God of the underworld, Yaskur.  Kneeling, he then prayed for the souls of those long departed.

Suddenly his prayers were rudely interrupted by a rowdy bunch of eight provincial constables.  Disregarding the sanctity of the place, they had burst into the large hall and, in their inebriated state, surrounded a local merchant and began rising wild pandemonium.  The bullied merchant, trembling on his knees, with pearls of perspiration dripping from his forehead, pleaded his case as to why he was late with his promised bribe and offered to make amends to them.

"Too late for that now.” one scoffed, glowering at the poor, petrified merchant who was in the throes of explaining circumstances that had prevented the prompt delivery.

"How would it look if we made an exception?" The brute constable pinned his venomous eyes on the merchant and gnashed his teeth.

"Your crime is unpardonable!" a third bellowed, pushing his way to the front.  "Imagine, trying to hide in here!"

"Bind him.  You should be taught a lesson.” The group's leader (standing apart from the group) icily ejected his command.

"Have mercy!” the old shopkeeper pleaded with his throat constricting, shedding tears.  "This is the Night of the Spirits!  You know my word is good.  I will deliver as I’ve promised.  I will even surpass the difference; consider it a bonus for the trouble I've caused!  Honest, I wasn't going to run away!  I really, really lack the means now.  Just give me one more day…."  A furious slap just then across the merchant’s face silenced the old man.

"Shut up, squealing pig!  We've already been to your house." The deputy grabbed the merchant by the hair next, and spit into his face.

When the old priest rushed to intervene, he was shoved back so violently that he flew across the room, crashing into the far corner.

Biting his lip, Nevetsecnuac rushed to help the bruised and dizzy priest to his feet.  "Are you all right, Venerable Sir?” he whispered. 

“I’m all right, only my pride is bruised” The old priest nodded then casting a cautionary look at the other priests congregating in opposite corner. He shook his head as if to say to them, “Stay out of this and do nothing”. In response they lowered their heads and averted all eyes as they remained woodenly livid with a flush of crimson gradually overtaking their sallow cheeks.

Nevetsecnuac’s disciplined mind going against his innate response had also quickly checked his own outrage for it would not do for him, particularly at this juncture, to draw unwarranted attention by interfering.

The locals in the hall meanwhile had remained huddled together with ghostly faces and trembling in fear.  The one or two defiant young souls that strove to escape this dangerous circumstance drew instead the wrath of the irate constables.  In mid flight both were tripped, fell then were violently kicked and roundly abused. Bloodied and bruised they crawled to the safety of a dark corner.               

Another of the stout constables in the interim had taken up post in front of the door barring any possible exit. He now hollered to command attention, "No one is allowed to leave here 'till we're done.  You are all witnesses to his crime.” He pointed at the bloodied merchant that was still pinned down.   “Does he, or does he not deserve the severe hand of the law, I say a beating he’s received is not good enough!”

A forced murmur of assent reverberated in the temple, and the large hall seemed suddenly, suffocating, and small.

Nevetsecnuac's face flushed.  Unable to bear it any longer, he was about to step forward to give challenge when he felt his vest being tugged, holding him back.

Turning, he saw an elderly beggar in tattered, patched clothes flashing him a warning look from a face scored with wrinkles and scars.  Half hidden in the shadows, he whispered, "Don't be a fool!” in a pressing tone.

 Just then, another ten constables swarmed in, creating a greater panic in the temple.  The poor merchant was dragged outside, kicking and squealing like a pig being taken to the slaughterhouse.

"He's done for.", exclaimed a trembling voice beside Nevetsecnuac.

"We won't see him alive again, poor soul!” the distraught priest mournfully added as he walked away to join his fellows.

No sooner had the swarm of constables gone than the crowd in the temple hall, forsaking their purpose for being there, jostled to the door and disappeared in a flash.  The sounds outside grew quickly muted and then silence prevailed.

"What was his great crime?” Nevetsecnuac turned to ask the beggar, still crouched in the dark corner.

The beggar checked to see that they were the only souls that had remained on the scene then scoffed, "Crime?  He was only guilty of shortchanging his extortion payment.  Poor man, only yesterday he buried his wife.  He must have exhausted all his funds on her funeral."

 He rose to his feet.  Shaking his head in resignation he added, "This sort of bullying goes on unchecked all the time- best that we, too, disappear before more trouble follows."

Blocking the beggar's way, Nevetsecnuac bowed respectfully, introduced himself as "Svein" and thanked the beggar for his help in keeping him from potential disaster.  Unaccustomed to receiving kind greetings much less kind words, the beggar just shrugged off Nevetsecnuac's thanks.  But remaining on the spot the beggar squinted at Svein, curiously appraising his face and fine clothes.  Convinced of the younger man's sincerity and honesty, he then returned the greetings and introduced himself as Lu Moldan.

You must be a stranger to these parts.  Yes, you have traveled from far; Lu grasped at the truth without voicing his inner queries.

   "I don't mean to be singing my own praises but, sir; your intended action could have landed you in serious trouble.  You could have lost your life or worse, been imprisoned, severely beaten then tortured to death.  They would not have been as lenient with you as they were with Father Zuri.  We all know that these bastards travel in large groups, and that it was just a matter of time before the reinforcements showed up.  How else do you think they find the courage to carry out their lawlessness and vile acts?"

"But what of the lasting repercussions of law and order, surely there exists, some measure of accountability within the system, however corrupt?” The naïve and sanguine notion escaped Svein’s (Nevetsecnuac’s) lips before it could be curtailed.

"What law?  What order?"  Lu threw his head back with a guffaw.  "All officials, high and low are corrupt!  Where do you suppose all their illegal confiscations end up?  Are you kidding me?!!” He chortled; but then seeing Svein's flushed face, he softened, "You must have just arrived here son and that explains it."  The Beggar Lu in half disbelief (with some skepticism) studied this idealistic youth (Svein) more acutely before voicing his query, which he then quickly answered.  “You are from far, far away… the furthest rim, yes?” He nodded. "Well, this may not be the frontier, but, believe me, the situation is far worse here.  It has been that way for the last twelve, or is it fifteen, long, long excruciating years?”

“It’s been absolute hell for all who are living here… if it could be called that!  The corruption is so rampant, so imbedded in the provincial government that...  Ay!!!!” He waved a hand. “But then you must be wondering why endure such hardships, why not look for a better existence elsewhere.  Ah, but the poverty chains are so entrenched!” He shrugged.

“And so, we endure, wallow or lurch would be a more precise word, this trapped state being no better off than scavenging rats.  But you, you're a visitor and you must not linger here any longer than necessary.  Heed these words if you do not scorn my poverty: Trust no one.  Do not believe in anything you hear or see.  Conclude your business and be on your way as soon as you are able, that is if you do not wish to leave your head behind, on the executioner's block.  Of course I need not warn you about the constables."

"I'm most grateful for your concern, sir, and I will definitely heed your good counsel."  Svein (Nevetsecnuac) bowed with thanks then, after a moment's hesitation added, "As you are so kind as to trouble yourself with a mere stranger's well being, sir, may I impose further on your goodwill with a query?"

"Please do."

"Sir, my purpose in coming to this province has been to seek out Lord Shonne Gulbrand's burial place in order to pay my respects to the great Lord.  May I therefore..."

"What burial place?” the beggar snapped.  "There's no such thing."  Shaking his head in anger he laughed coldly and walked away a few steps.  Then he stopped, turned and scrutinized Svein's face.  He wanted very much to ask why one as young as Svein and an obvious stranger should be so concerned with the late Lord’s eventual resting place.  Instead, he said indignantly, "Your search would be in vain.  Even Lord Shonne Gulbrand's Centuries old ancestral burial plots, after surviving the ravages of time, had been vilely desecrated and obliterated into heaps of dust.  Nothing, nothing at all remains of his legacy, his family or his name.  Even his wife, sister to the emperor, has perished long, long time ago.  They are all gone, all without exception."

06- LU MOLDAN

Lu abruptly paused. Though he knew he was alone with Svein, his eyes still fearfully scanned the immediate perimeter before resuming in a hushed voice, "If that's your only purpose in coming here, son, you had best be on your way."  Lowering his grim face, he turned once more to go but, on reflection he stopped and, looking back, imparted his last words of advice to Svein, "Besides, it’s far too dangerous for you to be asking such questions around here, even after this length of time.  Now, leave well enough alone and be gone from this misbegotten province."  He clasped his stomach as pangs of hunger had stabbed at him just then.  Subsequently distracted, he turned quickly and hurried away.

"Oh, blasted hunger!” Nevetsecnuac faintly heard Lu swear to himself as he was drifting into the shadows. 

“What sacrilege!” Nevetsecnuac fumed thinking of Lord Shonne Gulbrand’s fate.  Then his thoughts turned to the beggar Lu, “An intriguing individual!” He mused.  “I'm certain he knows far more than he's letting on.  I wonder what relationship he bore to the late Lord to warrant such enduring loyalty.” Nevetsecnuac inwardly queried next, mindful of the heart’s fiery passion that the beggar’s tone could not conceal. 

 Nevetsecnuac then quickly made up his mind. "Please wait up, sir!"  He rushed after Lu.

 For an old man the beggar had moved with the agility of a wildcat and, within seconds, had disappeared from view.  Veering round the corner Nevetsecnuac with his prowess quickly caught up with the beggar in a deserted alleyway. 

Laying a gentle hand on Lu's shoulder, he said, "Sir, I would be most honored if you would consent to dine with me.  I have not eaten a meal for quite some time; furthermore, I would be most appreciative of good company."

Tears of gratitude pricked Lu's eyes once he overcame his surprise, for he had not been treated with such kindness, such respect since the time when...it was so long ago he could barely recollect.  Averse to leaving this region, he had taken various odd jobs that others found too detestable or too hard to do.  With these skimpy earnings he had managed to carve out a meager existence in the past but, of late, he had found no such opportunities.  There were more desperate and fit workers than there were jobs.

His gaze shamefully fell on his own tattered and soiled clothes.  If the truth be known, his Lips had not touched a single grain of rice or even millet for the last three days, but he was too righteous to steal or beg.  Not that it would have done any good. Because of the recent set of adversities, even the pious that streamed into town at this festival period, had remained tight pursed.  

 Today of all days his despondency had finally driven him into the temple with the purpose of borrowing some of the offerings but, once there, he had relented on his planned sacrilege and had, just moments before the disturbance occurred, quietly resigned himself to death from starvation.  An invitation to dinner was a good fortune he had not dreamt of, although he understood well enough Svein's motive in wanting his company. 

Still, for the price of a small bowl of gruel, what Svein wanted could be given freely; there was no need for such generosity.

Could this be a ruse to entrap him? He mused.  Spies were planted everywhere as a rule, sending scores to the gallows every month.  But why would they bother with him after all this time and on such a night? He pondered.

 It might have been different once, but not now. He was too old and feeble to merit any fuss let alone the expense of a trial.  Assassins abound, they would have simply snuffed out his miserable Life long ago in some dark alley and be done with him.

A Dinner, well then with his Life so burdened with hardships, why should he fear death any longer? Besides this being the Spirits night, in this late an hour many would be too terrified of repercussions from avenging ghosts wondering about, to venture outside of the safety of their confines.  Hmm that also presented another difficulty, as many eating establishments would have long since been closed.  All except that one place at the outskirts of the …… Hm… So resolved Lu met Svein's eyes and nodded, "Sir, I would be most happy to oblige but, in all fairness, I must ask you to consider carefully what you are proposing."

Svein was adamant.

"Very well then, I will take us to a place where even Lord Yozdek's Militia would not dare show their faces.  Still, it may be a trifle costly.” Lu added, hemming and hawing.

"You are shaming me, sir, with such talk of money.” Svein responded.  "Let us be on our way without further ado."

 

(END OF SECTION 1)

                                                                                     ~