LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 36

 

 

"Good girl!"  Zunrogo exclaimed in pleasure as he noted the mountain of bodies piled up before the still standing barricade.  The few who still showed signs of life were quickly disposed of then moved aside to clear a path to the blockage.

Disaidun Agripe (Ms. Jepipi) had been as good as her word, more than several dozen lives had been snuffed out by her excellent marksmanship; however, her lack of response to Zunrogo's call at present gave rise to silent speculation.

“Maybe she’s already done me the favor.” Zunrogo mused.

 

01- ZUNROGO TUGO- JP  19

Zunrogo glancing at the heaps of dead men, suddenly however noticed, another irregularity. Many more of the assailants had been cut down by a sword. These mangled and hacked down men were attacked by an expert swordsman or swordsmen.

“Oh, no!” A sudden alarm gripped Zunrogo’s heart, and he shouted at Tizan to help him clear the way quickly, for he needed to get to Disaidun at once.  Soon as they had a viable path (gap,), Zunrogo swiftly advanced through the narrow strip, while Tizan up ahead, continued diligently to widen the course.  Once through to the other side, Zunrogo knelt beside unresponsive Disaidun Agripe who sat with her head and back (leaned) slumped against the wall and quickly checked her pulse.  He was not entirely concerned about the state of her condition; however, first and foremost, he needed to know if the letter was still there. He shook his head to purge slight reminiscences of his last intimate encounter with her, then fixing his attention on the part of her bodice where she had concealed the letter, his hand quickly reached beneath, to promptly retrieve it and secured it underneath his armor.

Tizan’s curious, though somewhat licentious (profligate, wicked) gaze was met by the captain’s hardhearted and cruel smirk. Tizan swiftly turned his slightly reddened face away to conceal (hide) his dubious and racy thoughts.  “So, the captain’s prior, impious relation with her, his supposed foible, carried the purpose other than carnal (sensual) indulgence (desire, need).  As there is no room for mistakes in this detachment, I should have been more astute.”  

 

Zunrogo meanwhile, was beset with some unsettling facts that had suddenly invaded his brain and needed clarification. “Decidedly she’d been overwhelmed from behind; was this carnage result of the suspected, but never uncovered, covert Black Moloch infiltrator on board? Was he still on board; for clearly, he hadn’t retrieved what he must have been assigned to do? What scared him off? Later, in private and away from Tzan’s prying eyes, he must examine the letter more (closely) carefully. “

Zunrogo’s quiet reflections suddenly ceased (halted, stayed), when she slightly stirred and at the same time, a faint groan emanated from her throat. Though her pulse was faint and her breathing shallow, a brief scrutiny revealed that she had sustained grave injuries to her head, her shoulder and left arm, as well deep cuts and scrapes here and there; therefore, as much as he’d liked to, Zunrogo could not bring her around to a sensible state, to inquisition her. True enough, she was at death’s door; however, even if she lasted long enough, still, it would take no small miracle for her to regain her faculties and in her poor state, even if she’d regained consciousness, she would still not be cognitive enough to satisfactorily answer his imminent queries, luxury of time he did not have.

For a second Zunrogo’s suspicions fell on Tzan.  “No,” He quickly dismissed that thought. Tzan had fought valiantly by his side and besides, wasn’t Tzan totally passed out, unconscious when Zunrogo regained consciousness.

Tzan had all this time, with his back to Zunrogo, continued with his dismantling the barricade.

As he labored Tzan grimaced coldly.  “Wonder what it was he took from her? …. Still, in all these years under his command, never once have I seen him do anything without a sinister reason or an underlying dark motive.  I wonder what’s really at stake here?”

 

02- 11-TZAN JP

Proceeding with methodical efficiency, Tzan had, in no time at all, disengaged (severed, disarmed) remaining, pertinent, lethal traps and cleared away the key barriers.  The rest Tzan was told, could later be safely handled by the crew, after they are released from their locked cabins.  This measure of keeping the crew safe had been deemed necessary, for they were essential in manning the vessel of this size.

 

 Tzan was about to go upstairs to first, finish disposing of the corpses into the river, when he was just then called to Zunrogo’ side. 

"She's not dead." the captain announced coldly, indicating Disaidun Agripe (Ms. Jepipi).

 "Take her body to her cabin and let her husband deal with her last-minute rites.”

Tzan, leaning over her warm body, understood her grave state of health at once and looked at askance (sideways, suspiciously) at Zunrogo.  “He is not known for showing least amount of mercy to anyone who’s outlived their usefulness; unless… she still has some benefit (consequence) to be utilized… hmm?”  But Tzan shifted his body with unease as he was once more mired (puzzled, stumped) by Zunrogo’s enigmatic mind, unable to phantom the captain’s decidedly sinister, future objective.

Only few hours prior, she’d been so full of life; now she was barely alive, what further use was she to Zunrogo?  Tzan could not help feeling a small measure of sadness for her short-lived ecstasy.  Zunrogo, contrastingly, with not a shred of sympathy or remorse, was already headed down the hall.

 

The time it took for Tzan to pick up the pliant body of Disaidun Agripe, Zunrogo was fast unlocking the scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald's door. Fradel emerged just in time to see Tzan, with her limp, broken body draped over his shoulder, going down the hall towards her cabin.

The scholar's inquisitive (questioning) gaze constrained Zunrogo to give a brief account of her involvement in the struggle: how she, being an accomplished archer, had offered her services and how, despite his own reservations, he had engaged (utilized) her abilities to safeguard the rest of the passengers, including Fradel.  He curtly (briskly) praised Disaidun Agripe’s courage and skill, noting how she had claimed few dozen lives before she, herself, had tragically been injured beyond recovery (saving); hence, she’d been allowed this precious remaining time to be spent saying farewells to her husband and child.

"There’s really no way she can be saved?" Zunrogo shook his head and gestured to sternly cut off Fradel's anticipated next inquiry.  "Pity, all the courage she has shown is totally lacking in Official Ceros Agripe.” Zunrogo derisively (sarcastically) snorted and looked away. “Let him come to terms with this new reality and then grieve for his impending loss in private; besides, the last thing we need now is the complications from a hysterical husband.  The rest, including the official Luvet and the crew, will be appraised of the near miss peril they’d been spared, all in good time, well after all the corpses are made fish meal.” 

“Meanwhile, for their sake and for ours, the less they know the better." Zunrogo impatiently then added that he’d taken this ill-afford time, out of courtesy to Fradel, to appraise him of the facts.  Now that the danger had passed, all that remained was the cleanup. He next went on to say, as a matter-of-factly, how to prevent pestilence, in the aftermath (result) of the deadly fray (fight, skirmish, battle), it had been deemed necessary to immediately dispose of all the corpses, into the cold, watery grave.

Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) reluctantly concurred with this hardhearted, but sound decision, then solemnly offered his assistance, where warranted.

 

03- FRADEL (NEVETSECNUAC) OFFERS ASSISTANCE (6)

“Kind of you to proffer (volunteer),” Zunrogo curtly refused his help, saying that the only task remained then, was still too gruesome and taxing, for one with Scholar’s delicate sensibilities and fragile constitution. There was no malice in his tone, just fact, so Fradel let this affront (insult) go.

Fradel was asked instead to, for a little while longer, remain in his cabin, until all the unpleasantness, in other words, all telltale signs of skirmish on deck, had been thoroughly cleared.

Zunrogo had another reason for keeping the meddlesome scholar away from the scene of the battle. He was certain, there were no survivors left above deck, however, perchance there were some, Fradel, with his moral rectitude, would be gallingly adamant for the wounded to be properly (cared for) tended; this contrasting with Zunrogo’s deemed sound judgement of, finishing them off and then swiftly discarding all the corpses into the watery grave, to prevent  any possibility of unforeseen, future complications.

By the time Zunrogo caught up with his Lieutenant, Tzan having already delivered the barely alive Disaidun Agripe to the care of her hysterical husband, at present his mind totally engaged with his work, was in the process of routinely adding weights to the neck and feet of last (group) batch of tied up corpses, before they too, unceremoniously were dumped (discarded) overboard into the river.

 

04- CHURNING WATERS OF THE RIVER

Tzan mopped his forehead off perspiration with the back of his hand then stood back to check and admire his clever workmanship.  Seeing that there was a slight movement, a twitch, a flicker of life, in one of the presumed dead, he quickly lifted the bound (roped, fastened, trussed) bundle and carried it to the railing then tilted it overboard.

 " Enjoy your long, blissful sleep at the bottom of the river." he hissed with venomous sneer, as he watched it sink into oblivion beneath the waves. When he turned, he was startled to find Zunrogo standing right behind him.

"Was that the last of it?" Zunrogo asked Tzan, with an unreadable expression on his face.  Receiving Tzan's nod of affirmation, he grunted cooly. "Good work."  Then he simply turned and walked away. 

“Well, Lance Diostin, despite your invincible prowess, you are now, indisputably dead and gone; and perhaps if you are lucky, your vestige (trace, hint) of brilliant exploits will be written onto the pages of history.” Zunrogo musing, scoffed (derided) then exhaled slowly the long, tense breath, which he’d been unwittingly (unawares) holding.

 

                                                                                     ~

 

Shortly after dusk the deckhands were let out to scrub the gore from the decks and mend those parts of the ship that had suffered in the attack.  For most of the night the crew slaved away not daring to make any suppositions or ask any questions about the day's events.

To a man, however, they were in unison with their intention, to abandon this cursed vessel and vanish into oblivion the very moment they docked at the next port. For they all had their own secret reasons for not wanting to undergo, the inevitably lengthy and grueling investigation and consequently, the impending penalties.

 

                                                                                       ~

 

Subsequent days, while the top deck buzzed with a flurry of activity, silence reigned in the cabins below.

Soon as Zunrogo could get away, he had stolen into his cabin to quietly inspect the letter. Noticing right from the start some oddities about the sheath, his face darkened, and deep frown set in. He did not wish to tamper with it any further, but was convinced nevertheless, that the contents within would most definitely be fake, which meant that the actual letter was in possession of that covert Black Moloch’s agent.

“Is he still on board?” Zunrogo wondered “or had he clear gotten away. “ 

In any case, this setback put him in a real bad mood, which would last several days.

Eventually he did, very carefully, bypassing the deathly traps and poisonous dart, removed the fake inside letter and unfolding it, quickly perused the contents. What he read infuriated him still more, knowing if he had in ignorance delivered the letter to the Prime Minister, it would have brought about his immediate, ignoble (dishonorable, dastardly) death.  In his rage he promptly fed the letter along with its covering to the hungry flames in the brazier.

Later still, Zunrogo keen on discovering the particulars and whereabouts of this presumed Black Moloch spy, his tireless efforts, and astute observances, had eventually revealed to him the presumed identity of the culprit. He’d been one of the crewmen, one called Zack, most probably a pseudo name; what’s more, after the battle, he had mysteriously (gone missing) disappeared without a trace, never to been seen or heard from again. Yet, this had not alarmed anyone, including him?

 

05 B CREWMAN ZACK - A BLACK MOLOCK SPY ON BOARD BOAT (5)JP

Zunrogo now faintly remembered how on the day they’d boarded the vessel, his keen eye had (caught) noted the exceptional physique of this particular crewman; nevertheless, in the aftermath Zunrogo had been so completely taken in by Zack’s assumed ordinary demeanor. This infuriated Zunrogo, subsequently, his ire (indignation), his fiery temper had rained misery on all, especially since Zunrogo, upon further reflecting, became acutely aware of his own (failing) prior oversight, resulting in his sorely missing the certain oddities that should have alerted his senses.

After further thorough search of the vessel and questioning at length the other crewmen and Tzan, Zunrogo’s suspicions were affirmed; that Zack, had not been among the discarded corpses, which meant that, he’d had clear gotten away along with the actual extortion letter! Be that as it may, the vessel charting a ceaseless course in the center of this fast flowing, wide river with barely visible shorelines, however a good swimmer, could Zack still have defied all the odds?

 

 

                                                                                     ~

 

(END OF SECTION 36)

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 35

 

The cloaked figure had appeared before him out of nowhere, Lance Diostin sizing up this unmistakably, imposing warrior brandishing his sword, threw his head back and laughed venomously.  "And who are you supposed to be, dressed up as ‘The Avenging Ghost?’  Why this absurd, masquerade?"

"You are more accurate in your description than you imagine, sir; but it could not be helped." The cloaked figure laughed back and shrugged then assumed a more serious demeanor.

 "I have no quarrel with you personally, fact is, captain Zunrogo has not outlived his usefulness; so be warned, I can be your benefactor or your nemesis, depending on your choice.  All I ask is that you forego your intention to end his life, and then perhaps, I can be persuaded to spare your life."

"How magnanimous of you…  How fortunate for me that you are considering sparing me.  Look, I'm trembling in fear." Lance Diostin responded with a sneer.

01-LANCE DIOSTIN JP 13

"Spare my life indeed!  A mortal is not yet born who can defeat me.  Tell His Lordship to go to blazes!"  He launched into a murderous assault, bringing his full fighting skill against the cloaked figure.

"His Lordship?" the figure parried Lance Diostin’s thrusts with ease.

"Don't play dumb with me!"  Infuriated, Lance Diostin fought with the fierceness of a tiger and the swiftness of a whirlwind, leaving no room for any further discussion or opportunity for truce.

This time, however, it was Lance Diostin who was clearly outmatched.  The ensuing pitched exchange was brief.  Too late, the invincibility of the cloaked figure was revealed to him but by then, in the blink of an eye, Lance Diostin found himself on the receiving end of a magnificent, powerful strike which left him unarmed, with his magnificent sword cast aside, shockingly almost insensate (unconscious, numbed, almost paralyzed) and near mortally wounded, at (inches from) the other's feet.  A dry, death rattle in his throat, still defiant, he demanded to know the identity of this worthy opponent who had bested him.  The figure, however, simply shook his head, and said: “Truth will be disclosed, when we face each other next. You are a great warrior with invincible prowess; therefore, I’m averse to the idea of heedlessly (recklessly, rashly) terminating your life.” He nodded, “first, however, I must have your word that you will, forsaking your aim, leave your sword behind and swiftly depart (flee). I have no doubt you equally excel in swimming and therefore, will reach the shore in safety, despite your (injures) wounds?”

Lance Diostin was intrigued with his opponent’s magnanimous gesture; besides which, a chance to again duel with this invincible foe was an enticement enough to convince him to at present capitulate, so reluctantly he nodded his head, acceding (ascending, agreeing) to the cloaked figure’s terms (stipulations, conditions).

“But how will I know it’s you, when I encounter you in the future?” He then, as if in afterthought, asked. The cloaked figure after a pensive thought, nodded, “Very well I will reveal my identity to you, if you wow (swear) to keeping it a secret from everyone, till then.”

Lance Diostin, who was famed for his honorable character (unblemished reputation), readily concurred and gave his solemn promise; however, nothing had prepared him for the shocking revelation he was about to witness next. He was absolutely aghast and his eyes wide with disbelief continued to stare at his opponent’s face that had been only briefly revealed to him. Lance Diostin, despite the intense pain, pulled himself upright as he chuckled and then, turning to face this remarkable being, shook his head. “Oh, you are good. You had me, had all of us, so completely duped!”

“Considering your impaired physical state, are you certain you can safely reach the shore?” The cloaked figure, disregarding this, impatiently asked and, having received another nod, and lance’s words, “I wouldn’t miss, not for anything, our next encounter.” Stepped aside to allow Lance Diostin to walk past him.  The cloaked figure’s eyes impassively (cooly) then followed Lance, who despite his grave injuries, with remarkable resilience, swiftly advanced to the edge of the deck.

Lance Diostin half turned his head, his gaze unreadable, to simply say, “Capital Channing is the domain (sphere) of ultimate (supreme) jeopardy (hazard, risk, peril) keep that in mind and stay safe; I bid you farewell, till our next encounter (combat, contest).”

02- LANCE DIOSTIN JP 18

Then nimbly, with a fluid grace dove off the edge, to quickly be engulfed (plunged, rushed) by the choppy waters of the river.

The cloaked figure lingered at the spot for a moment or two then pensively nodded his head, and turning away, precipitously advanced his steps down the stairs, to below deck; as he rushed down the corridor towards his cabin, he came face to face with another cloaked figure brandishing a bloody sword.

“Who the hell are you?” Bellowed the other masked, formidable opponent but then not waiting for an answer, he launched his murderous attack.

“No matter, you must die!”

 He was in fact the covert affiliate of a secret Brotherhood; known as Kaelan, who’d been all this time posing as one of the ordinary crewmen, called Zack, on board this vessel, going about undetected. One of the best agents of Kozurs, working as a double spy, had as well, carried orders from Lance Diostin to undermine Zunrogo’s plans.

Kaelan’s blade was dripping with blood as he’d just fought his way against the barricade, butchering countless to advance towards his objective. He had attacked Disaidun Agripe, dealt her a near mortal blow then reaching beneath her bodice (the upper part of woman’s dress or undergarment that covers the upper body), stole the letter from the secret pocket. The original one secured on him, he’d then replaced hers with the fake (bogus) letter.

Kaelan’s surplus orders had been, to deal with or, to cooperate (assist) with Lance Diostin, depending on the circumstances (outcome) back on deck, after Lance had incapacitated (vanquished) Zunrogo and the Lieutenant. He was rushing there to fight, rather, to inform Lance of the amended orders, that there was no longer any need to destroy the vessel along with everyone on board. A highly competent double agent, Kaelan’s real objective (the letter being switched) done, he was then simply to disappear for an indetermined period, supposedly, to report back (not just to Kozurs but also) to Black Molochs. 

The sudden encounter with this unknown masked man with his blade tainted with blood revealed to Kaelan that, something had gone terribly awry (amiss, wrong). 

An awful thought just then crossed Kaelan’s mind, as there were no sounds of battle above, in fact all was perfectly quiet. Still no time to worry, he’d launched his murderous assault to deal with, rather vanquish, this unexpected adversary (foe). But as the two fought on it soon became clear to Kaelan, just who the victor would be; the covert crewman ceasing an only opportunity, took to his heals with the enemy hot in pursuit. Once on deck, the quick fleeting look (glance) told Kaelan of the dire situation, rushing to the edge, he dove straight off the boat to disappear in the turbulent, foamy waters. A Good strong swimmer he was gone from sight within minutes. The other masked warrior, abandoning pursuit, quickly returned to his cabin.

                                                                                  ~

 

When the blackness lifted, Zunrogo with hazy eyes spotted (saw), Lance Diostin’s discarded heirloom sword in a pool of blood just a few feet away, and even though there was no sign of Lance Diostin, corpse or otherwise anywhere to be seen, he still presumed of Lance’s certain demise and sharply sat up.

Looking at his own bloodied sword, then back at Lance Diostin’s discarded blade, then over to Tizan who was still unconscious and collapsed against the mast, Zunrogo was now puzzled.  Unable to recollect (remember) exactly what or how it happened, he pieced all the probable set of circumstances, clues and facts to conclude that he must have somehow, before he lost consciousness, had dealt his opponent Lance Diostin, the mortal blow at the edge of the deck, and his corpse must have tumbled into the fast flowing waters of the river. Ignoring the painful throbbing top of his head and temples, he slowly rose to his feet and tottered over to pick up Lance Diostin’s heirloom sword, the irrefutable proof of the foe’s demise.

03- LANCE DIOSTIN'S DISCARDED HEIRLOOM-SWORD

Studying the blade’s edge and noticing a fissure (cleft) in it, he wondered, “Such force… Could I have done that? Did I slew him?” he marveled, wondering, as his fingers lightly traced the obvious indentation (crack, cleft, fracture). 

The next instant his face fell in a frown, “This is terrible…This is not what supposed to have happened. Blast!”  Besides, he needed Lance Diostin alive for questioning.

“How could I have been so reckless, or driven to such desperation, to have taken this adverse course? Yet I cannot recollect how …” Baffled by the mystery and angry at this obvious set-back, he gingerly caressed the large, pulsating bump on the back of his head then brought his hand around to look with a disconcerted eye at his blood-soaked fingers.

 “Strange, I clearly remember how I got this wound but everything after that my mind is a complete blank.”

He shook his head.  “Ouch!  Don't do that again.”  He inwardly admonished self, for his carelessness.

Zunrogo’s brief scrutiny of his body revealed numerous lacerations, gashes, and bruises, none of which were particularly serious, except one on his left thigh.  He made a mental note to have this one sewn up, for the gash was too deep for the flesh to bind on its own.  Thank goodness it’d missed the blood vessel!  For now, he tore some strips off his shirt and wrapped them tightly around the wound to stop the bleeding as he looked once more at Lance Diostin’s sword.  He remembered how he had got this wound as well.

“Why is my memory so selectively clouded about the last set of events?  What in blazes happened?”  This mental fog was most disconcerting for him.

Just then Tizan's stirring drew Zunrogo's attention.  Rushing over to the Lieutenant's side, he knelt and helped Tizan sit up.

 "I thought I'd lost you for good; now there, take it easy."  His manner was unusually friendly.

"You can't get rid of me that easily." Tizan smiled, echoing of the captain's good humor.  Then an unexpected, faint groan escaped his lips, “Uggh…The hammering in my head!" 

Shamefaced, Tizan gave a darting glance at Zunrogo, for in all these years this was the first time Tizan had complained about anything.

"So, you're made of flesh and blood after all." Zunrogo affectionately patted Tizan's shoulder then rose to his feet with a grimace.

Tizan's eye fell on Lance Diostin’s heirloom sword.  "You have his sword; is he dead, Captain?"

04--TZAN JP

"Deader than a doornail." came the dispassionate answer from Zunrogo.

"Well then, sir, your reputation should be greatly enhanced after this."

 Disregarding the pain shooting across his chest, Tizan picked himself up off of the deck.

"More than you can imagine." Zunrogo donned (gave) a grin of satisfaction.

"But I thought you wanted him alive?"  Tizan ripped off his wet shirt and unbuckled his breastplate.

"It couldn't be helped." Zunrogo shrugged, his gaze still fixed on Lance Diostin’s sword.

"But how did you manage it?  If you don't mind my saying so, the last I recall you were in dire straits.  He was on the point of vanquishing you."

Tizan's direct question hit home as he again recalled that same time.  “How indeed… Yet somehow, I had turned the evil tide in my favor and changed the outcome. I’m here, aren’t I?” Zunrogo pensively looked away. 

“Too bad I can't recollect any details.” Zunrogo then simply shrugged and said no more.

“The concussion must have caused this temporary amnesia (memory loss). Though it’s most irritating,” Zunrogo inwardly reasoned, “perhaps it’ll all come back, soon, I hope. Hah, meanwhile, my nemesis is dead.”  He took comfort in that thought and walked to the edge of the deck, looked down then cast his gaze far, at the barely visible snaking shoreline perimeter of the (wide) vast expanse of the fast-flowing river.

"Perhaps, Captain, when things are straightened out, you will enlighten me as to how you defeated so competent a foe." Tizan misinterpreted Zunrogo's reluctance as modesty, had snuck up behind him, to add; he thereon continued to be a pesky nuisance.

Looking back to his Lieutenant, Zunrogo nodded distractedly then smiled wryly when he saw how oblivious Tizan was to the pain of the multiple cuts and bruises on his limbs and chest.  His eye caught one slash, that was bleeding profusely.

 "You'd best take care of that wound." he pointed it out with his chin.

"I still have plenty of blood to spare." Tizan pressed his shirt against it observing more closely Lance’s heirloom-sword, which Zunrogo still held onto.  When he caught sight of the indentation at the edge of blade, he let out his breath in a long, involuntary gasp, "Wow!"

He looked up at Zunrogo, with an admiring gaze.  “Had he really done this?  I had no idea he could muster such force.”

Zunrogo ignored his reaction, looked around him and commented thoughtfully, "We have quite a bit of cleaning up to do, Tizan.  Do you think you're up to the task?"

"And why not…  Since when few cuts and bruises ever slowed me down, Captain?  I'm no old woman!"  Tizan indignantly sprung to his feet but the profuse bleeding from his wound constrained him, nonetheless, to do something about it.  Cutting some more strips, this time from the shirt of one of the corpses, he wound them tightly around his wound, giving it a haphazard, but effective, dressing.  At least now he could work unhindered.  He knew what had to be done without being told and he set too with closest perimeter, following the set routine, piling up the carcasses in (heaps) groups of two or three and finding heavy objects to tie them for weight.  He was ready to tackle the next batch (of corpses further away), when Zunrogo grasped his arm.

"No, Tizan, all this can wait."  He indicated with a nod of his head for Tizan to follow, as he swiftly (descended the stairs and) disappeared below decks.

 

 

(END OF SECTION 35)

                                                                                                 ~

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 34

It had been quite a row, a real humdinger of a fight, all right!  He couldn't have been much more than nine or ten, but Tizan was well enough developed for his age to, at long last, hold his own against that brute.  “He had rebelled soon enough, though, hadn't he?”

From the age of seven he had relentlessly fought back each time his stepfather had taken to drink and viciously turned on him. Had his father not died or that his mother did not re-marry, he had always wondered, perhaps things might have been different. 

Tzan had suffered greatly; as far back as he could remember, all through his childhood in fact, with many beatings, constant verbal abuse and endless torment at the hands of his stepfather Zianko. (First mentioned in Book 1 - Fisherman’s Prize- Section 3)

 

01-  ZIANKO

No man could be more vicious to a child.   The vile brute Zianko was a heartless, greedy, selfish dog! Then came the day on which Tzan’d been an eyewitness to Zianko’s murdering his mother. Perhaps the only time she’d stood up to him, fighting desperately to uphold her son’s right to inherit her former husband’s estate. But no one took any notice of Tizan’s claims or accusations, for Zianko had already arranged to make it look like a perfect, irrefutable accident. Shortly after, Tizan had suddenly fallen deadly ill, and very nearly died, but he had recovered, in time to learn, that his stepfather Zianko had been cleared of all charges. Meanwhile secretly from then on, the brute had conspired to murder him (Tizan) before he reached the age of twelve.

On that night, two months before he was to turn twelve, their brawling had reached a peak when that beast Zianko, unable to gain advantage with his hands alone, had taken up an oar and struck a hard, brutal blow at Tizan’s temple, knocking him out cold.  When Tizan regained consciousness in small hours of the night, he'd at once secretly taken off, preferring the unknown dangers of the mountainous forest to certain, slow death at his stepfather Zianko’s hands. Just before he left, he, looking back on the fishing village, had inwardly vowed to someday kill Zianko if he ever came across him again.

 

                                                                                  ~

 

Tizan now looked back out at the spot where the boat had been short time before, his eye catching the first of the mangled wreckage bob up to the surface.  For a moment he imagined that it was his stepfather’s boat and each of the bodies it took to the bottom with it was Zianko, killed repeatedly.  The image gave him little satisfaction, but it was the best he could muster at present. Even after many years of intense loathing, same seething, all-consuming abhorrence of Zianko still coursed through his veins.

“Odd that I'd remember Zianko now,” Tizan turned his attention back to the pitched battle still raging between captain Zunrogo Tugo and Lance Diostin.

“Devils take me!  How could I have frittered away (waste) all that time, with just reminiscing… where’s my good sense?”  His guts were gnawed by self-reproach. 

 

02--TZAN JP

In truth, the squandered time had only been no more than a heartbeat.

Snatching a sword from the nearest corpse and carving a deliberate course, Tizan rushed into the fray, wanting to fight alongside Zunrogo; but the dizzying and intense speed (never once dwindling), skill and agility with which Zunrogo and Lance Diostin fought, interlocked as they were in that kind of a continuous, sound combat, did not afford Tizan least opportunity (opening) to intercede.

Unrelenting, Tizan kept mental notes on Lance Diostin’s unique fighting style and any potential weakness in his offensives as he combatted other foes; all the while, he sought an opportunity to intervene with a well-placed strike at Lance Diostin.

He gradually lost heart when he observed how flawlessly Lance executed his offensives without giving up an inch of his defensive position.  Lance had no failings of any kind.  Though captain Zunrogo was the most competent fighter Tizan had known, Zunrogo was dwarfed in martial skills by his invincible opponent and even was forced into maintaining only a defensive course for much of the time.

Tizan, meanwhile, had soon run out of opponents to fight, and he stood looking about, surrounded by heaps of corpses, for least sign of life for which to extinguish. Disappointed he turned his attention back to the only ongoing action (contesting duo).

“Strange,” Tizan mused, observing how there’d been few instances during which a flaw in Zunrogo's defenses had left an opening, a perfect opportunity for a strike, yet his opponent Lance Diostin had ignored these obvious advantages.

“Oh, he’s so shrewd; adroit that he is, is he just toying with the captain?”

 Tizan inwardly questioned Lance Diostin’s motive, while at the same time with a sinking feeling, grew (became) skeptical of Zunrogo’s ability for the first time ever.  “He’s not invincible after all, is this the mentor I've sworn an unconditional allegiance to?”

Before he could follow up on his doleful, glum (gloomy, woeful) thoughts, the rarest opportunity just then had presented itself.  Lance had for a split second let his guard down, allowing slight vulnerability in his rear.  Fearlessly, Tizan jumped into the fray, recklessly not giving his brain (his senses) apt time to grasp (comprehend, gather) that Lance Diostin might have deliberately and with specific design, slackened off just enough to afford him (Tizan) this rare chance.

"The more the merrier!" warding off both sets of blows, Lance Diostin threw his head back and laughed; he then set to with equal equanimity and deadly precision, simultaneously attacking both Zunrogo and Tizan. 

"For a moment there, I thought that you would turn tail and run, Lieutenant.  Now, at least, I have a more even match.  I wouldn't want to be accused of taking unfair advantage of Captain Zunrogo here.  Oh, let me thank you, sir, for your invaluable service in ridding me of that excess baggage back there…. ha, ha!"

Lance talked and fought with equal ease; meanwhile, Lance Diostin’s fluid, swift maneuvers strained both his opponents’ defensives, their ability to the brink and, at the same time, restricted their corresponding strikes. By all accounts, Lance Diostin wasn't even trying all that hard.

 

03-LANCE DIOSTIN JP 12

Bristling at his arrogance, both Zunrogo and Tizan intensified their efforts and succeeded in, for an instant, turning the battle to the offensive.  Yet, despite their perfectly orchestrated, deadly onslaught, they still could not weaken or best Lance Diostin.

Lance Diostin’s amusement faltered after a while and he picked up momentum, wielding his sword with lightning speed and deadly effect.  He redoubled his offensive strikes with unyielding power, strength and unsurpassed cunning and agility, striking at places where there seemed to be no opening, piercing defenses that appeared flawless.  This intense, pitched fighting continued for a short spell though for Zunrogo and Tizan it seemed to be an eternity.

The two, finding themselves in dire straits, fought on with all their might but were unable to keep their adversary at bay.  They were hanging on only by the skin of their teeth.  Then, while fending off a deadly thrust by Zunrogo, Lance Diostin swiftly twirled and landed a good, swift kick squarely on Tizan's chest.  It was fortunate that Tizan had not discarded his armor, otherwise his ribs, which took the brunt of this attack, would have been instantly pulverized.  Still, the force of the blow was enough to hurl him right across the deck and into the mast, where he slumped down, unconscious.  Tizan was still not out of danger, for Lance had raced to follow his flying body and was at the point of decapitating his helpless form in the next heartbeat.

Zunrogo, putting on an all-out effort, had leapt over to the mast and, in the nick of time, intervened with deadly force to block Lance Diostin’s strike.

 Taking a stance between Lance and the Lieutenant Tzan, Zunrogo hurled curses, dares and taunting assaults while strategically retreating, (to lure) to draw Lance Diostin away from Tizan towards an un-sprung trap further down the deck.  This, Zunrogo perceived, would be his best hope of besting his nemesis.

However, it proved ineffectual.  Lance Diostin was too insightful, too clever to be caught unawares by the deadly snare.  In fact, with an agile maneuver, Lance forced Zunrogo to spring the trap.  Zunrogo escaped, only with a hairsbreadth, as the hurtling blade flew past the side of his neck to land in the river.  Zunrogo had trained himself to never ever consider defeat during a battle and so, he continued to fight in a desperate all-out struggle.

Lance Diostin clearly could have annihilated the captain at any time but, again, he slackened off on his assaults, clearly deriving a particular pleasure from toying with his eventual victim.  "Well, my friend", Lance hissed, "I must thank you for affording me this wonderful practice session.  It is only rarely that I get to use my full skills these days.  You see, once I reach my full potential (ability), my opponents invariably end up dead and, of course, it would be unwise of me to leave any witnesses to circulate reports of my true skill.  Good sparring partners are hard to find, you know.  So, you, sir, may go to your death knowing that your worthless life has, indeed, served some small purpose.”

Zunrogo realized too late how he had been led to mortally (fatally) underestimating Lance Diostin's true prowess.  Had he but known, he could have deployed more powerful reinforcements, adopted more effective means, engaged in diversionary tactics, or considered retreat, to just live to fight another day.

 

04- ZUNROGO AND lANCE DIOSTIN CLOSE COMBAT

As it stood, he was failing miserably.  He knew he had only himself to blame for this grave oversight.  He had been well versed in military strategy and should have perceived the possibility of this deception by Lance Diostin and taken measures to guard against it.  Lance Diostin’s adaptation of the age-old ruse had been flawless and Zunrogo, like the many others who preceded him, had been properly duped, lulled into a false sense of security right up to the very end before being totally, and irrevocably vanquished.

There was no time for self-reproach or remorse.  Just as Zunrogo was about to modify his strategy to one of escape at any cost, Lance launched a whirlwind assault that instantly incapacitated him.  He could feel the world going black as he fought to strike back.

Grinning cruelly, Lance Diostin lifted his magnificent sword high above his head, setting up the one powerful, lightning stroke that would slice through Zunrogo's neck like a harpoon through a jellyfish.  He let go of the stroke, the sword arched through the air in firm descending course, backing it up with all his force.

The blade’s course midway was stopped cold however, never reaching Zunrogo's neck as if it had hit a solid rock; furthermore, the shock wave traveled back up the sword and through Lance Diostin’s whole body.

"What the hell?" glowering, Lance Diostin jumped back and turned to assess the opponent still brandishing the sword that had blocked his fierce, deadly aim (blow).

                                                                                           ~

 

 (END OF SECTION 34)