LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 10

"Dufo, Kundrick Dufo?  Where have I heard that name before?” Stark (Asger) sounded a somewhat muted (whispered) query.

"Please forgive my presumption, my Lord, but, as I have understood it, you’re Lordship had the privilege of being tutored by numerous famed scholars in your youth, one of whom..."

"But of course!" Stark (Asger) raised an impatient hand recalling at once his esteemed teacher Sorgun Dufo and his son Kundrick; a meek little boy of two Kundrick was then, always accompanying his father to the study but remaining   attentive yet quiet as a mouse in the background.  Even so, Stark (Asger) stole a dubious glance at Alec.  "You are exceptionally well informed about things pertaining to me, sir."

Alec's response however was timely interrupted by an inquiry from Svein, and the details concerning Stark’s (Asger’s) tutor Sorgun, and son Kundrick were briefly relayed.

Stark (Asger) then lapsed into momentary silence, as images from the past, when he was but eleven years old, succinctly played out before his mind's eye.

                                                                      ~

                                    

In that fleeting moment, Stark’s (Asger’s) thoughts had trailed to this unusually tall, thin, distinguished scholar, clad in immaculate, black attire, with his deep, penetrating, lugubrious(melancholy) eyes and unchanging, serious expression who spoke softly with weighty words that commanded your undivided attention.  Perhaps the strictest of his tutors, Sorgun Dufo, had won Asger's lasting respect and awe.  From the beginning   Asger was enthralled by all the mystery that had surrounded his esteemed teacher Sorgun Dufo's past (previous years), and he recalled how tirelessly, but nonetheless fruitlessly, he had tried to get at the facts.  What little information he had at first procured had been gleaned over the longest while from hints his father and mother had let fall about this scholar.

01- SORGUN DUFO

 For unknown reasons, scholar Sorgun Dufo and his only son Kundrick had left their stately home in far off Fukken province under the cover of night, never to return.  They had already traveled an immeasurable distance towards their mysterious destination when, dogged by several misfortunes and the incurred expenses, they were left destitute and stranded in Toren province. 

Asger's father, Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon, recognizing the scholars worth the instant of their chance encounter, had treated Sorgun with utmost courtesy and respect and, in keeping with his generous nature, had invited Sorgun to be his honored guest, lodged in their finest guest house for the duration of their indefinite stay. 

The old Lord's warm hospitality and lavish gifts had, in turn, constrained Sorgun to stay on longer at the Zhon residence and to become Asger's tutor in order to reciprocate a small measure of his host's kindness.

All seemed to go well until, one day quite unexpectedly, Lui Durek, a distant relative, visited them.  At the informal reception feast when Lui was introduced to Sorgun the visitor was taken aback at once with an undeniable shock.  Quickly masking it he extended his felicitations and offered a polite conversation.  At the first opportunity, however, he had discreetly pulled Lord Wutenzar aside and whispered something grievous into his ear, throwing a furtive glance over the host's shoulder at Sorgun Dufo, who was engaged in intense conversation with another guest.

"Are you absolutely certain of this?’ the Lord had demanded crossly in a whisper.

"Absolutely, undeniably so.", Lui responded, smiling sardonically.  "In all the years you have known me, have I ever led you astray, my Lord?"

02- LUI DUREK

Lui looked directly into Lord Wutenzar’s eyes, his face dark, his jaw set firm.  "Now you must act on this at once, your Lordship.  The culprit must be apprehended and brought to justice.  Imagine his gall, taking advantage of your kind, generous nature like that!"  Then, noting Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon 's frown, Lui scrambled to eradicate the damage, "Please forgive my presumption, my Lord.  I did not mean to, it was not my intention to...” he said contritely then, oddly enough, became tongue-tied.  In his exasperation in searching for the appropriate word his face contorted, appearing so absurd, so comical that Lord Wutenzar had been forced to constrain his amused laughter.

His stern expression thus erased, Lord Wutenzar nodded with a dismissive gesture, as if to say, don’t worry, no offense is taken.  I know you meant well.  You were overzealous in your conscientious efforts, as usual.  Meanwhile the Lord's keen senses had alerted him to how, even at this distance, the exchange had been ardently, though discreetly, observed by Sorgun and he'd noted Sorgun's subsequent fleeting, stiff grin.

 "You don't agree?” the family friend Hekin had asked just then loudly, shaking his head in astonishment, obviously misinterpreting Sorgun's momentary distraction.  Then, after looking about the room, Hekin affixed his eyes on Sorgun and abashedly apologized, his eyebrows raised in serious inquiry.

Subsequently to all seeming appearances Sorgun, with typical elegance, had immediately smoothed over the matter and proceeded to elaborate his opinion on the controversy under discussion.  As he reached out his hand to have his wine cup filled, however, he had again casually tilted his head and glanced sideways at Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon.  For a brief, awkward moment their eyes met.

Acting as if nothing had happened, the Lord smiled stiffly and looked away, feigning being lost in abstract thought.  Admittedly, Lui was renowned for his sharp memory, meticulous handling of details, keen observation skills and for his deductive reasoning.  That is what had made him a good censor.  Hmm, Lord Lord Wutenzar remained indecisive, nonetheless.  What perturbed him the most was that, up until that time, he had taken pride in his ability to accurately discern a man's character.  Never had he erred on this point; never had he been so completely duped.  Yet the presented facts…” No; regardless of all the indisputable, incriminating evidence, this case warrants further investigation,” he turned his stone gaze to a crow perched on a tree outside.

Lending a casual ear to Lui's continued urgings, Lord Wutenzar heaved a dejected sigh; then slowly rising from his seat, he motioned Lui to follow him to his study.  The ensuing conversation behind these closed doors had left Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon, after a time, pale and highly agitated.

 Peeking in, Asger had observed in astonishment the color gradually draining   from his father's grim face and how, after pacing to and for with hands clasped behind his back, his father had suddenly halted and slumped, listless and resigned, into his plush chair.

 Lui, meanwhile, looking every inch, a beast on the prowl, had turned his face away in Asger's direction, hiding his feral grin of satisfaction.

Just then Asger's attention was drawn back to his father; for at that same instant Lord Wutenzar's gaze, riveted onto the painting on the far wall, became suffused with immeasurable fury.  Asger knew the scene well: a harmonious family gathering and banquet on the edge of the river Yawjun.  His teacher Sorgun had given him that picture not too long ago.  His curiosity now piqued, Asger strained his ears still more, but all he could catch was a reference to Sorgun, to a mockery and something about a crime of, ’adultery’, a vague word, the meaning of which he had not yet fully comprehended.  Added to his concern was his father's changed attitude, his reserved, cold indifference to Sorgun Dufo from then on (that time onward).  But this was something he could not openly inquire about, as it was, even the merest mention of the word “adultery” had instigated raised eyebrows, disapproving looks and frowns from his old nanny, mother and maiden aunt.

The mystery had eventually been resolved when one moonlit night, because sleep had averted Asger, feeling particularly restless, he had slunk out of his bed and after divesting his bed clothes, quietly put on some outer garments. Careful not to wake up any of the servants he’d then went outside and begun aimlessly strolling in the vast gardens. Veering this way and that, he had finally halted his ambling to gaze distractedly at the moon's rippling silver rays charting a course over the emerald surface of the man-made pond, as a lugubrious symphony of insects serenaded his ears. 

Soon after he had tired of this distraction and, with his hot blood craving adventure, bypassed the Jadatek pavilion. Veering behind a hill, he had delved into the forbidden sector of thick grove of ancient pines whose branches blotted out the starlit night entirely.

 Groping his way across this canopy of darkness he'd skirted another pond, crossed the stone bridge and headed straight for the peach groves, drawn by the exquisite scent wafting from the blossoms.  Advancing at a more leisurely pace, he'd enjoyed the light breeze fanning his hair and the soft pink blossoms tenderly caressing his face until his eye suddenly caught a dim light streaming from the far side.

Craning   his neck and inclining   his head, he'd pinpointed the location, his father's old studio, abandoned and hardly ever used since the new one had been built. 

Who or what could it be there at this ungodly hour?  Asger had hoped it would be a ghost or robber, a promise of a thrill to rejuvenate this monotonous night.  However, no thief could breach the heavy security.  Shaking his head dejectedly he'd told himself, in all probability and in view of the recently implemented restrictions on the servant's favorite pastime, gambling, it could be but only one thing. Yes, decidedly, some of the servants must have chosen this isolated spot for their illicit activities.  Asger had never understood their fascination over such a benign, innocuous game.

 Is it worth investigating? Should I bother or not? He’d lingered at the spot indecisively for a moment or two as he drew a circle on the ground with his right foot.  Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained.  Who knows, it may well prove interesting. He simply shrugged, then sauntered towards the light.

When he'd gotten within hearing range of the building his ears were suddenly burned by his father's stern, icy tone as Lord Wutenzar confronted the tutor Sorgun Dufo.  Without thinking twice, Asger, in fear, ducked for cover. But this was too good to miss.  Steadying his heart, wildly thumping with curiosity and excitement, he'd then stealthily approached the open window to eavesdrop.

"I'm greatly indebted to you, my Lord, for the kindness you've shown both me and my son Kundrick.” Sorgun finally said after a prolonged silence.

"Are you mocking me?"  Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon took a step forward, glowering, barely able to contain his rage.

Asger had never seen his father this angry.  Inwardly he quaked out of concern for his tutor Sorgun.

"Please, my Lord."  Sorgun, mustering self-restraint, indicated a seat for the Lord, then, with permission, he sat down across from him. Sorgun cleared his throat then in a somber and most sincere tone he promptly resumed his say, "You have every right, my Lord, to despise me for what you perceive to be my deception, my concealing the truth, but please believe me, it was done with the best of intentions."

Sorgun disregarded Lord Wutenzar's disdainful grunt, "I did not wish to involve yourself or your family in what would most certainly be a messy, lengthy litigation, and I certainly could not make you an accessory to my so-called crime.  That has been the chief reason why I have withheld my unfortunate past from you as long as I did.  But this grievous, totally erroneous account given by Lui Durek...”  Sorgun held out his hand to stay the Lord's angry rebuke, "Please, I wish no disrespect to the gentleman himself, for in all probability he is relaying exactly the slander that has been circulated, and that has, no doubt also been confirmed by your investigators, as it being on the public record.”

Lord Wutenzar’s stone face did not waver (falter); his eyes filled with hurt, he morosely (dourly) looked away.

03-LORD WUTENZAR THUXUR MARROG ZHON

"You needn’t be concerned, my Lord, no one has breached your security," Sorgun rushed to reassure Lord Wutenzar, "it's only to be expected.  I would have acted the same had I been in your place.  This erroneous account of Lui Durek's has nevertheless obliged me to attempt to clarify the situation and, if nothing else, endeavor to set the record straight.”

“I owe your Lordship that much.  In absence of proof, however, I must beg your Lordship's indulgence until..."  He abruptly stopped short, seeing how, at this point, Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon was fidgeting in his seat, clearly displeased with the scholar's evasions.

Stop wasting my time! Lord Zhon had nearly snapped, but being fair-minded and wanting to give Sorgun an equitable chance, he had instead sat back, constraining   his displeasure and fixing his stern gaze on Sorgun, he then indicated for the other to continue (resume his say).

Sorgun was a proud man and did not take too kindly to being held under such doubting scrutiny.  He considered taking his leave in a huff, why should he bear such humiliation; however, he hesitated, mindful of the Lord's past kindness. Inwardly he struggled hence, to curtail his fury and, to forgive this debasing hurt.   His Lordship at least deserves an explanation.  It is quite natural for him to be concerned, for hasn't he in the last while entrusted his most precious son's education to me, (an accused) a suspected criminal?

Lord Wutenzar, meanwhile, noting the tutor's indignation, his inner turmoil as he struggled with certain defiance, anger, indecisiveness and the whole range of other, unreadable emotions on his face, regretted his manner and, softening   his gaze, gave Sorgun an encouraging smile. 

"Please do go on, sir.  As you can see, you have my undivided attention."

Sorgun, after momentary consideration, nodded thoughtfully and began, "To the best of my ability I will spare any embellishment and confide in you the true account of my past circumstances and my reasons for taking this precarious, unenviable path.  After which I will, without the least resistance, surrender my fate to your good judgment." His resolute stare earned the Lord's approving nod.

So that was at the root of my teacher’s (Sorgun's) indecisiveness, Asger, now shamefaced, had at once realized.  And of course, this also accounts for his earlier reluctance and apprehension! And I thought it might be …. Hmmm.  All along he had been considering making this determination, as well as this request, of my father.

"I would have long ago surrendered to the authorities, come what may, my own fate being of no consequence,” Sorgun exhaled a deep, dejected breath and looked away thoughtfully, "but you see, my concern over my son's welfare had prohibited me from taking the path of least resistance."  His pain filled eyes reverted onto Lord Wutenzar.  "After the ultimate betrayal, whom could I trust?"  He shook his head dismally.

"Foolishly I'd expected, or rather hoped, that the matter in due course would resolve itself and the true facts be disclosed.  Now I see I've been gravely mistaken for, far from being cleared, I've been wrongly slandered and already convicted without even the benefit of a just trial."

What Asger next heard had filled his heart with inexplicable feelings and had awakened him to the otherwise unknown, harsh realities of life. 

He'd learned how Sorgun Dufo had come from a long line of aristocrats who ranked high in Royal favor and had been endowed with a sizable fiefdom.  After his grandfather's untimely end, Sorgun's father, Kerek Dufo, being the elder son, inherited the title of Squire and the full responsibilities of the position.

 As his only offspring Sorgun knew that much to his own regret, eventually that restrictive life would be his as well. As it were, being educated extensively and grilled and drilled daily, Sorgun had grown up to become a worthy sophist literati and able politician.

 On top of this, he had acquired a natural talent for the financial aspects of every kind of business on the estate.  But his true interests lay elsewhere. 

Determined as he was to have his fill of life before being restricted in obligatory duties, he had, despite the family's discouragement, devoted much of his free time to furthering his skill in the martial arts. 

Excelling in swordsmanship, he would, as soon as he was of consenting age, often disappear on lengthy excursions in search of hair-raising experiences and excitement.

 Gradually his father Kerek Dufo eased off on the punishments, seeing they were of little use as a deterrent, and had allowed Sorgun to have his way, for the time being at least.

05 KEREK DUFO

Sorgun had suspected this having been partially due to his paternal uncle Minakos' convincing arguments on his behalf and so had remained most grateful for his intervention for the longest while. 

Minakos had been the one who had shown the most understanding and who had discreetly encouraged Sorgun to pursue his interests.  The bitterness in Sorgun's voice as he told of his uncle rather perplexed Asger at the time, but the answer was not far off.

After Sorgun was married, much to his parent's disappointment, he had ensued (kept on) with his eccentricities and not even the mourning period required for his deceased mother had deterred him from this practice.

 Upon his sudden (abrupt) return from one such adventure one night, however, he had unfortunately caught his sanctimonious father Kerek Dufo and his wife, Lady Linnsar, in a loving embrace during their secret rendezvous in the back garden.

 In his rage Sorgun had drawn his sword to behead them both but, resisting, had only slightly wounded his father with the flat of the blade.  Turning away, deaf to the curses and threats heaped upon him by Kerek (his father) and the pitiful pleadings of his faithless wife Lady Linnsar, he'd stormed out of there.

 By Sorgun’s uttered admission, all feeling had died in him then, except for the need to safeguard his infant son Kundrick.  Heading straight for Kundrick's room he'd snatched the baby from its warm crib and dashed outside into the just then abrupt (precipitous) rainstorm, in his mad state of mind, quite oblivious to the pelting rain, never to return.

 Forsaking all family, even his great love of swordsmanship, he'd hurled his precious sword far into the currents of the Yawjun River and from then on had wandered aimlessly, much like a vagabond, over the back trails of the vast countryside.

Eventually his son's survival had necessitated his return to the literary field once more and, being exceptionally talented, he'd carved out a meager living by tutoring the children of minor gentry and rich merchants from time to time.  He'd never lingered too long in one place for fear of being found out.

Sorgun vehemently swore on his grandfather's tomb that he had not taken their lives that night.  Their demise had come to his attention much later.

 "In all likelihood,” Sorgun speculated with an icy grimace, "my repentant father, Esquire Kerek, in his shame had finished the job for me.  It was the incompetence and corruption of the authorities that later on led to this erroneous conclusion and, the issuing of warrants for my arrest."

"If you are truly innocent, sir, and I don't doubt that you are you should have nothing to fear.” Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon said after a lengthy pause.  "I am sorry to hear that you have lost all faith in our judiciary process.  Regrettably, in many parts of the country, bad elements have taken root and infiltrated the process to undermine the probity of our courts, making mockery of our time-honored laws.  But, with persistence and an adequate outlay (dispensing) of funds, justice may still be had even there.”

His genuinely concerned gaze held Sorgun’s for a time then he added:

"Despite your success thus far in avoiding capture, you have still inadvertently injured the one thing you sought most to protect.  Don't you realize that, by your evasive actions, you have deprived your innocent son of his birthright and condemned him to a lifetime of hardship and misery?  I advise you therefore, for his sake if nothing else, to lay your trust once more in the judiciary system and surrender yourself to the authorities without further ado.  You may leave your son in my good care and relieve your mind of any undue anxiety.  I give you my solemn promise that I will do everything within my power, leave no stone unturned, to uncover the truth and extricate you from this wrongful indictment.  Wouldn't that be preferable to always being on the run, apprehensively looking over your shoulder, faced with an uncertain future?"

 Then, rising, he affectionately tapped Sorgun's shoulder and said, "Think this over carefully.  You need not reply just yet, but I expect an answer no later than tomorrow’s sunset."

Up until that time Asger had been intimidated by his father's stern persona, seeing him as an unbending, highly disciplined individual, strict in his adherence to convention, brilliant, articulate yet intolerant of weakness, a powerful being who put everyone at their unease and one whose presence always commanded respectful attention.  In short, he'd viewed his father more as a demigod than as a mortal man, a heavenly force he'd always striven to win the approval of. 

This unassuming, sincere manner, this compassionate side of his father had never been revealed to Asger for the sake of discipline, and so his ready championship of the unfortunate scholar had misted up Asger's eyes, and he'd found it hard to resist the urge to rush in and embrace him.

As it was, his father would have never approved of such an open display of affection and would have scolded him for eavesdropping on top of it.  Meanwhile Asger had noted how Sorgun had also been visibly touched by the concern and generosity (kindness) Lord Wutenzar had shown him.

 After pondering briefly, Sorgun, with lowered head, nodded his reply, his voice choked with emotion, "There is no need to wait.  I am, and always will be, most grateful (and beholden) to your Lordship for this consideration."

 He had then risen from his seat, straightened out his garments, and with all due humility, citing Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon as his benefactor, had respectfully bowed low to express his gratitude.

 He was about to fall to his knees when Asger's father rushed to stop him and helped him rise.  Saying that such acts were uncalled-for, he'd proposed they both go outside for a stroll to get a bit of fresh air.

Frightened lest he be found out, Asger had shrunk into the shadows on all fours and then taken to his heels.  Stealthily beating a hasty retreat, he'd made his way back to his own room without incident.

 In his excitement he'd not bothered to change and had quickly climbed under the covers but, try as he might, sleep averted him.  He stayed up the rest of the night, relieving in his mind all that had transpired, all that he'd done, heard and seen.

Just before dawn he'd eventually drifted into an exhausted sleep with a contented smile on his lips.  He was confident that his father, with his resourcefulness, would soon deliver Sorgun, now his favorite, most respected tutor, from these terrible difficulties.

 

(END OF SECTION 10)

 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 9

Pressed upon to drink more tea, Alec happily complied and with his earlier inhibitions gradually ebbing (diminishing, fading) he now rattled on: "However, this was not the case at the start, my Lord. The disastrous outcome of the insurgents' initial campaigns had nearly stemmed the tide of this now massive resistance.  The first set of uprisings was led by San Jarl, perhaps you know of him, sir?” Alec paused to receive the answer, but Asger barely remembered the name.

 "He was a close associate of my father.  He first led his followers to stage armed resistance in his hometown district of Noran, in the fifth year of Zakhertan Yozdek's reign. 

ZAKHERTAN YOZDEK

Unfortunately, their initial swift victory over the provincial government's forces had given them a false sense of competence; for they were in no way ready to next engage the crack troops dispatched from the capital under the command of General Ang.”

“Though the rebel forces carried an inexhaustible will and courage they nevertheless were disastrously out matched in skill and weaponry. In the subsequent struggle San was killed in action and his entire force brutally annihilated. When the news of another rebellious outbreak reached the capital, the returning   General was then directed to cross the Lug River to the west and wipe them out also.  This he also did with ease.”

"The few that escaped merged two years later with the forces of yet another uprising at the border province… A…, Yes, this rebellion took place in Arkon province… Hmm, just for a spell, I seemed to have lost my train of thought. Forgive me, my Lord; for I must be tired…My head is clouding.” So, saying, Alec sipped more tea, believing it would refresh him.

 It entirely escaped him that both Svein and Asger had circumspectly emptied part of their tea aside and purposely neglected to refill it.

“The region had first suffered flash floods then had a prolonged period of severe drought.  The parched land would not yield a single blade of wild grass, let alone a kernel of grain. 

The masses starved.  Able bodied men, too impoverished even to flee boiled tree bark for soup and dug up wild roots to keep themselves and their families alive.  Yet, the provincial government continued to ruthlessly oppress people and extracted heavy taxes and rent from them, instead of sending the sought-after relief.” Alec shook his head in utter dismay.

“Countless numbers were forced to sell their children into slavery in order to meet these demands.  Such pressures on the part of the local government naturally precipitated righteous indignation (fury) and the resulting insurrectionist army quickly grew to become a force of a quarter of a million men.  Once more the capital dispatched troops to give aid and to suppress these widespread revolts but this time they were under the leadership of another general, one less able and talented than Ang. Ang you see,” Alec sneered, “despite his impeccable record of countless victories, had become a target of jealousy and resentment and, as a result of a trumped up charge, by then had already lost his head.”

"The fortunate outcome of this turn of events gave the rebel forces the brief advantage of victory.  During their occupation of these vital areas, they raided the existing (provincial) government granaries and distributed the stored food freely to the needy masses, winning   them further support for their cause.”

“But then local government agents cleverly sowed seeds of dissension among the rebel leaders and caused them to break up.  With each fighting independently of the other they one by one succumbed to defeat.  All of them, save for a few and Nuer, perished.  In the final skirmish with the reinforced government forces, at one desperate stand, Nuer along with some sixty able bodied men successfully broke through the encirclement and fled to disappear in the marshes. This heroic group came to be known as “61 Defiant”, eventually sought refuge at Lord Shonne Gulbrand's secret mountain retreat in the adjacent province, whereupon they established a more serious underground resistance movement.”

“Unfortunately, the subsequent reprisals against the insurgents' families were most bitter.  Old folks, wives, sisters, children of all ages, all relatives that were left behind, once gathered up, they were then inhumanely, mercilessly all thrown into deep pits and buried alive.”

“Their heart-rending cries haunted the soldiers who had been ordered to carry out this gruesome deed, for days thereafter.  However, the officials were unmoved, and they passed a further decree (ruling, law) to burn and level the homes of all the suspected villagers and other such collaborators as a means of weakening the insurgents’ resolve or altogether deterring any such future uprisings.” Grinding his teeth, Alec continued, "Instead, this genocide, these atrocities only strengthened the determination of those who had gone into hiding and they vowed to avenge all who had been murdered and to fight harder still to the bitter end, till they were rid of this evil regime.  In less than a year's time, having amassed a strong militia, they rose up again and marched right across the border to stage yet another uprising.  Unfortunately, after Nuer was killed in an early skirmish, his followers were quickly trounced (routed).”

"The next rebellion, which arose in the Rue District, failed also because vital information concerning   the plan of attack was leaked to the central government by turncoats.  The result was the capture of the entire rebel force in an ambush.  All the 100,000 men lost their lives by decapitation in a two weeklong public execution.  Blood flowed like a river to dye the surrounding plain, and the sickening smell of death lingered on the air for weeks afterwards.  Their leader, Carr Elof, after being forced to witness all this, was taken to the capital in heavy chains.  There, after heavy torture and a mock trial, he was accorded the prescribed sentence of the law and, in the public market, was slowly put to death by ‘Thousand cuts.’"

Alec groaned, as flames of rage similarly seared both Asger's and Svein's hearts.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Alec resumed, "But he became a martyr to the public, because, right up to the point when his tongue was cut out, Carr Elof continued to loudly revile Zakhertan and his corrupt government."  This said, Alec relapsed into brooding.

 Svein could not resist heaving a sigh, and Asger simply shook his head.

"For a long time afterwards nothing much happened, then, just as Zakhertan was congratulating himself on having rooted out all the troublesome elements in the nation, another much larger, more fearsome and better organized insurrectionist army resurfaced under the leadership of Kade, Shon, Doje and Jary to challenge(contest) Zakhertan's authority and his government’s right to rule!"

 Alec's voice had just then boomed, fueled with the surging enthusiasm that had swelled his chest.  He apologetically smiled and bit the corner of his lip to check his zeal.

"This radical force had the strongest backing of Lord Gulbrand who had enlisted into its ranks the banished civil and military officials. With their implementation of sound military strategy and tactical maneuvering, the virtually unstoppable rebel army quickly seized large territories in Fukken, Lonar, Tarak and Buker provinces. “

“To suppress them Zakhertan Yozdek's Defense department had to marshal more than seven million cash for military hardware and expenses and then mobilize forces from five provinces to the tune of 650,000 troops. Moreover, the central government adopted stronger measures of crushing the sporadic resistance.  Suspected collaborator's houses were systematically demolished or burnt to the ground, in many instances slaying all the occupants in it. “

“Meanwhile, most able-bodied farmers were taken from their fields, displaced from their villages and forced into slave labor in remote border fortifications and castles. The women and children left behind to till and harvest, under strict scrutiny journeyed each morning   to their fields and returned only at night for scant respite.

 At the first sign of any trouble gongs and bells sounded to recall everyone into the walled village square after which the gates of the stockade surrounding the village would be securely bolted.  Any left outside was fired upon by archers or put to the sword.  With such measures the government hoped to sever the least link between the farmers and the insurgents.”

"In other areas they made good use of the provincially controlled militia, who were incorporated into the regular army from the Capital to fight the rebels.  Thus, they were able to, on short notice; mobilize a large force from adjoining   provinces for the effort...  These measures, in addition to the planting of spies, offering timely amnesties, tempting bribes of various kinds, as well as sowing dissension among the suspected leaders, inevitably brought about the sure downfall of any lethal uprisings.” 

“The last bastion of staunch resistance- after several months of continuous fighting, in the final confrontation what came to be known as the “Flakanut Hill”, only half of the freedom fighters were able to break through of the fiery encirclement to retreat to safety.  The remaining   bunch refusing to surrender had continued to fight to the bitter end until they were all consumed by the searing flames.  Their death was not in vain however, for they had forced also a vast number of the government’ forces to accompany them to their deaths.”

"Three- and one-half years later, in the seventeenth year of Zakhertan Yozdek's reign, two more uprisings erupted, one led by Doje and Jary, the other by Kundrick Dufo.  Falling into an ambush at Fenzu pass, Doje was killed in action and Jary was taken prisoner.  Jary was tortured for days, then barely alive, he was hung up at the north city gates for the carrion birds to feed on.  He died an agonizing death at their beaks and claws."  Alec's face contorted in bitter disgust and, as if still seeing the grotesque figure before his burning eyes, gave an involuntary shudder. 

“All was not lost however, the scant few who had escaped death, managed to catch up with Kundrick Dufo's army and they re-emerged in Buo province to take the government's mountain stronghold at Decan pass."

 Stark (Asger) was quite impressed with Alec’s apparent resilience.  The drug was designed to reduce his inhibitions, yet Alec had stuck to his narrative with amazing equanimity. At the outset, Stark (Asger) nodded his head regardless of the veracity of this remarkable blending of facts.  Conveniently also, all these supposed rebellious activities had taken place at the opposite end of Wenjenkun, so far removed from this segment of the Empire.

"Kundrick Dufo is courteous to his officers and good to his men, so his just reputation has earned him their undying loyalty.  Each, without a moment's hesitation, would lay their lives on the line for him.  A seasoned campaigner, he is utterly fearless in the face of the enemy and has always fought in the forefront of each battle.  When his army retreats, which is rare, he is the last one to cross over to safety.  Reportedly, each time the army encamped, and new wells were dug, he drank only after his men had had their fill, and ate what they ate, however unpalatable.  The spoils of war and rewards of conquest he has always divided equally among the men, enjoying no personal privilege. That is why to this day, my Lord, the insurgent, loyalist army under his great leadership has remained undefeated and has become the most formidable force to contend with.  They have, with increasing frequency, engaged the Yozdek government's forces, the latest two, at Zenro Pass and Koniko, being particularly successful, with heavy casualties being inflicted upon the enemy ranks."  Alec cleared his throat and smiled wryly, confessing, "This last bit of news, of course, was acquired through hearsay.  Still, I have no reason to doubt its validity."

 

(END OF SECTION 9)