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 8

 

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 8

Positioned near the brazier, cozy warm and with his wounds well-tended, Brandt’s face by degrees returned to a normal color.  Though conscious now Brandt, opting to play it safe, kept his eyes shut for a while longer and shallowly inhaled the familiar smell wafting to his nostrils. He stealthily noted the fact that his upper (garb) garments had been changed; his wounds were properly bandaged, but that he was securely bound. Nevertheless, this still boded (insinuated) well since they took this much trouble and did not simply end his life.  Brandt surreptitiously parted his eyelids and with his now regained focus he observed Asger Marrog Zhon seated off to the side, seemingly absorbed in deep thought, puffing his long-stemmed pipe.

When their eyes met Asger nodded then said somewhat reassuringly, "I hope you will not take offense, but I'd like to hear the rest of what you have to say and allow any airs of suspicion between us to entirely dissipate before I release you from your bonds.  I trust the cords are not too tight to cause you any discomfort?"

Brandt   smiled peevishly and thanked Asger for his consideration, adding that no offense was taken.  "Under the reversed circumstances, my Lord, I would be predisposed to do the same. However, I am trifle thirsty."

Svein, upon hearing this congenial exchange between his uncle and Brandt   as he was headed out the door, ground his teeth and shook his head as if in disbelief.

 How different he is from the way he acted in the tavern that day, Svein mused.  But uncle is a discerning man; I’ll have to trust him on this, he knows what he is doing.

Back in the main cabin, Teuquob anticipating the need and having just then prepared a fresh pot of tea and some cups, simply handed the secured bundle to her husband before he had time to air out his request.  Her subsequent inquiries about the stranger were delicately brushed aside however, as Svein was most eager to return.

 Upon his re-entry to the stables, Svein overheard Brandt’s claim, "Sir, my surname is Therkan; my true given name is Alec. I was…"

 Alec, is it now? Probably more fabrication, for he is (craftier) slyer than a slithering snake. Svein scoffed inwardly, as he came forward with his bundle.  I really hope uncle knows what he’s dealing with.

"May I inquire if you are in any way related to Minister Taok Therkan?” Stark (Asger) interjected, signaling Svein to a seat.

"He is my late father, my Lord.” came Alec's earnest reply, as he threw a cursory glance at the bundle that had been put aside.

Stark (Asger) had been certainly well acquainted with that name and, even though he had not the good fortune of meeting the worthy minister in person, Taok’s fame nonetheless had spread far and wide, to all parts of the Empire.  Moreover, Stark had chanced on an excellent portrait of Taok Therkan (when he was in his twenties) between the pages of a certain manuscript, when once visiting his good friend Lord Shonee Gulbrand. Currently, with a narrowed pointed glare Stark (Asger) judiciously scrutinized the facial features of this supposed offspring of this lord.

TAOK THERKAN

Stark next looking away quietly reflected on how from the moment the good minister had gained office, Taok Therkan had fought uncompromisingly against corruption and his subsequent political thoughts summarized in several brilliant literary works had been widely circulated among the elite scholars of the land.  Presently, Stark (Asger) was grieved to learn of this minister's passing.  But it was to be expected, he further mused, all good men ran the risk of eventually coming to harm at that tyrant's hand.  Why should an ardent opponent, albeit kin (relative), be exempt?

With this new development weighing heavily on Stark’s (Asger's) reflections (ponderings), he slightly shifted his body.  The person before him was shrewd and quite ingeniously persuasive with his elaboration of particulars, certain specifics and the slight blending of decided facts. If only it were that simple, that he could without qualm be ascertained of Alec's claim to this identity.

In the end he decided to forestall judgment till after he’d heard all there was to hear.  Hopefully by then he could with discernment weed out the false contents from the genuine data. 

Alec Therkan in due course, with the help of Svein, had been given some hot tea to quench his thirst.

"As you probably know, sir,” Alec getting somewhat comfortable, once more resumed his narrative, "my late father had offended the corrupt Minister of War, Geir, when, placing his own life at risk, he sent a memorial to the Court exposing the corruption in various government offices including that of Geir himself.  Summoned to court for an audience, my father further defended his position and, against the well-meaning   advice of friends, strongly advocated positive reforms to curtail the power of (certain) several military bigwigs, civil officials and some influential gentry. “

MINISTER OF WAR, LORD GEIR

“My father now deemed a serious bane, Geir used his powerful clique at Court to accuse father of a serious crime that would ensure his death, but His Royal Highness Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir favored my father's integrity and suspected a foul play.  Therefore, despite the overwhelming testimony brought forth against father, and the lack of proof to substantiate His Majesty's intuition, my father was only demoted by one rank and banished to the remote frontier province of Wuchi."

Yes, Stark (Asger) concurred with a nod, this tallies with what I had heard of this respected Minister's deeds and misfortunes.

"In this remote province, my Lord, Taok Therkan served loyally for seven years, awaiting a reprieve which never came.  During these unsuspecting years my maternal Uncle Zakhertan  Yozdek, who was only a Field Marshall then, steadily grew in power through his alliance in marriage to Prime Minister Morvald's younger sister."

What's this? Svein fumed in silence, seated some ways back, He's related to that usurper, and he still expects us to trust him?  He glared at Alec with added misgivings.

Stark (Asger) construing (surmising) Svein’s thoughts, with a discreet glimpse apprised his nephew that he was aware of this fact already.

"You probably don’t know this sir,” Alec meanwhile had continued, “but my father had a serious falling out with my uncle shortly after his banishment, when at a private dinner with Zakhertan and his confident clique (faction), he’d refused to accede to their mutual censure (criticism) of His Royal Highness, Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir's waning power, warranting hence, apt resolution, their synonym for rebellion ."

Though this piece of news had escaped Stark (Asger), he did not let on.  As it were, in the absence of any reliable intelligence he had only once cogitated on the predicament of this outspoken, loyal patriot.

"When my father with his inherent prescience (foresight) deduced from certain indicators the initial stages of diabolical plot to overthrow His Royal Highness Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir,” Alec swallowed, “his subsequent attempts to block it or warn the Monarch, were all but rendered ineffective. His father Lu Therkan, you see, had surreptitiously intercepted each attempt.  Seeing no end to father's stubborn persistence, Grandfather Therkan then conceived of the drastic measure of incarcerating father in his own home for the duration.  Paternal Uncle Po was dispatched on this errand with explicit instructions to engage the assistance of the entire household in the successful confinement of Taok Therkan in his study and furthermore, have him excluded (barred, prohibited) from any outside contact until the danger had passed. “

“With his whole family turned against him, father beat his chest and lamented bitterly, via his writing brush, onto the innumerable pages.  Yet even these tomes bearing his grief were spirited away and burned.  The family acted under misconstrued notion that due to a temporary madness or some other such mental malady, he was rendered incapable of seeing sense or reason; therefore, the actions they took were for the noble purpose of protecting father from harming himself.”

"Now, while father was kept cloistered, the entire country as you well know underwent catastrophic changes, when Field Marshal Zakhertan  Yozdek with one bloody sweep, usurped the power of the throne.  Even though this news was kept from him, Taok's understanding of the facts led him to an accurate assessment of the situation.  His condition grew progressively worse with each passing day until one day, to the family's consternation, he stopped eating and taking any medication altogether.  The physician's summoned to his bedside, however competent, remained unable to cure him and Taok slowly began to (fade) waste away.  In anticipation of his approaching demise the immediate family under Uncle Po’s directive, began making preparations for the funeral.”

"Then one day, quite unexpectedly, my father received a visitor of such importance that the family dared not keep him away.  It was father's old friend, Lord Shonne Gulbrand.  His Lordship stayed at father's bedside for a very long time and, after his departure, to the utter delight of his family, my father now a transformed man, once more began taking in (consumed) nourishment and willingly ingested the prescribed medicine.  His subsequent recovery was swift and in no time at all he was back on his feet and writing again.”

“Father spent endless hours alone in his study inscribing (writing) most of the time; only now he painstakingly put down two versions of each and took particular care to conceal the copy concerning the truthful, pertinent depictions. Since he exhibited none of his previous adverse characteristics and even seemed to have quietly submitted to the idea of Zakhertan's rule, the restrictions on him were gradually withdrawn (lifted, rescinded) until they became non-existent.  The death of Grandfather Lu Therkan provided father with a further reason to abstain from official duties, travel or social functions and served well his self-imposed ostracism from the rest of the family.”

“After the period of mourning, on the second anniversary date of Zakhertan's inauguration as Emperor, father once more with a self-induced illness deliberately absented himself from court and the following festivities.  Subsequently, in an official letter, citing persistent ill health, father requested permission from then Monarch to be allowed to resign his assigned post and abjure any other posts thereafter.  In this way, by remaining in permanent retirement at Wuchi, father had sought to avoid serving the Yozdek regime.”

“During his conspicuous absence, his esteemed wife, Zakhertan Yozdek's second sister (by the same mother) Lady Kelda, striving to mend any ensuing harm, had persistently allotted bribes or pleaded with Zakhertan to overlook her husband's incompetence and inability to respond in his service.  Recalling to Zakhertan's memory the great services rendered by her brother-in-law and her late father-in-law, she implored Zakhertan to show tolerance and not interrupt her husband's line, since they were still by then without an offspring. I was conceived, you see, eight months later.”

 LADY KELDA

“Fortuitously also for father, Zakhertan's main concerns at the time rested in his consolidation of power over all aspects of the government, the pacification of the land, and confronting the growing threat of the Alvacons in the north-eastern territories.  In the end, persuaded by his sister and the other relatives' entreaties, Zakhertan Yozdek perfunctorily dismissed the spiteful, deemed malicious whispered slanders from father’s professed enemies in Court, and granted father an early retirement with modest stipend, in Wuchi province. This would have been the end to my father's troubles, had he remained in obscurity as he had been ordered to, but far from it.  Covertly, he began assisting loyal patriots of the late monarch who had flocked to him in secret to gain his guidance and protection.  In addition, being the prolific writer that he was, he initiated an underground resistance by wielding his brush to produce literary works in a brilliant symbolic form, exposing the existing corruption, the hypocritical rule and the evil aspects of the present regime. Consequently, in a very short time his small initial following grew too significant enough numbers to give serious challenge to the bastions of authority in various provinces."

"Indeed, the minister was most worthy of praise.” Stark (Asger) interjected thoughtfully.  "Truly a remarkable individual, a true patriot, the way he rose above private gain and the personal concerns of his family to place his deposed Sovereign's and his nation's interests first in importance.  This tells of his great understanding of loyalty and filial piety."

“Not unlike yourself, my Lord.  Your son languishes in...”

“My son is dead!” Stark (Asger), deliberately ignoring Svein’s questioning   gaze, curtly interrupted Alec.  “I thank you not to digress.”  Stark’s (Asger’s) words were cordial but his tone more a command, it bode no argument.

“As you wish my Lord,” Alec readily, circumspectly acquiesced; prudently eyeing Svein in a side-glance.  Excellent; I finally have the confirmation I sought. Hah, I will make good use of this later, to effectively disarm either him or both. 

"But unfortunately, my Lord, while the resistance movement was still in its infancy, some of my father’s works, despite all the care taken, still fell into the wrong hands and they were brought to the attention of Lord Geir.  The despicable traitor, who had from the start ardently supported Zakhertan’s ambition to seize power, because of his invaluable service, now held the coveted position of ‘Senior Minister of Transmission of the Inner Chancery.”

Stark (Asger) threw a transitory side-glance at Svein and noting that Svein recollected well this part of his lessons (that “Office of Transmission: One of the boards of the Inner Chancery responsible for accepting memorials from the officials and petitioners.”), turned his attention back on Alec who’d continued on without interruption.

 “Only he had dared to go behind the Prime Minister's back to submit this incriminating evidence to the attention of Zakhertan Yozdek.”

"The end result was the immediate dispatch of the palace guards, to arrest and bring father in chains back to the capital to account for his treasonous crimes. Lord Geir had a longstanding personal grudge against father you see, and torture and debasing would be the least of father’s expected woes before the gruesome, ignoble public execution.  Fortunately receiving an advance warning from a sympathizer in Court, father was able to commit all the incriminating documents and papers to the flames and by sending word, also spared his covert affiliates from the similar predicament. Why hadn’t he simply fled, you may ask? In truth he was ailing and besides, his desire to revile Zakhertan Yozdek to his face was an irresistible draw, that made father forsook safety, knowing also that the solidly entrenched resistance movement would still thrive through me, his only son.  Entrusting me to his assistant and confidant, Kai, he gave instructions to take me under concealment to the residence of Lord Gulbrand.  His last words to me on the night of my departure were, 'Now you must grow up fast.  From this time onward you are to look to Lord Gulbrand as your only family.  Obey him explicitly, with all the rights that are due to a father and assist the Lord in his determination to set right all the wrongs of this country.'  With tears in his eyes, he then embraced me one last time and whispered into my ear, 'Mark my words well, son, and rid our ancestors of this shame.  It is now up to you with the actions you take to restore honor and credit to our family name.' "

Alec bit the corner of his lip to quell (refrain) the surge of emotions swelling his chest and looked away. After a momentary silence in which his vacant gaze was pinned to the flickering tongues of the fire, he forced a smile to his lips and, once more, resumed his story, "I gave my solemn promise to do my utmost and, without really understanding the meaning   of my words, since I was only five years in age, I vowed to return (reestablish) justice and peace to this land.  It was not until much later that I fully grasped the course of my appointed task: that of assisting Lord Shonne Gulbrand in raising an insurrectionist army to overthrow the Yozdek regime and reinstating the rightful Prince then at large, back into power.  'Only then,' as my late father had once asserted in a letter to Lord Shonne Gulbrand, 'could the dark, oppressive clouds which are shrouding the brilliance of the sun and are casting the earth into darkness and despair be lifted for the good of all.'"

"It is my understanding," Svein felt impelled to interrupt, "that Zakhertan Yozdek held absolute power of rule in the years following his usurpation of the throne and had successfully eliminated the least opposition to himself and to his regime.  How was it then Lord Shonne Gulbrand was able to raise an insurrection army?"  But before Alec could respond, Svein answered his own question, "Unless he too had kinship ties with Zakhertan Yozdek, benefiting hence from the usurper's only weakness."

"Precisely,” Stark (Asger) thoughtfully intervened.  “Harboring ambitions to usurp the throne, Zakhertan Yozdek prior did methodically seek to align him via marriages with the old established and powerful families, including that of Lord Shonne Gulbrand's.  Just two years preceding his perfidious deed, he had in fact arranged for his youngest sister to marry Lord Shonne Gulbrand.  It is regrettable that at the time no one foresaw or grasped the scope of Zakhertan's ambition."  This said Stark (Asger) lapsed into further brooding.

"But then, my Lord, when things came to such a pass," Alec interjected, "as the brother-in-law of Zakhertan Yozdek, Lord Shonne Gulbrand remained above suspicion.”

Did he, now! Stark sardonically pondering, turned his (skeptical,) questioning gaze back on Alec.  

 “Though perhaps not as much as Zakhertan's blood kin,” Alec relented. “It was however enough justification to give Lord Shonne Gulbrand the advantage over others who sought to lead the underground resistance campaign.  Zakhertan's rise to power was too swift for anyone to forestall (thwart), but he had underestimated the stanch loyalty of the people to the late Sovereign and the resulting resistance to the new order.”

"His Lordship Shonne Gulbrand, his bloodline besides being from the most illustrious line of old kings, was most fortunate still in another aspect.  Because he had won over the heart of his beautiful wife Lady Bergdis, so completely, he was able to carry out his plans without fear of being exposed by her.”

 LADY BERGDIS

 “Since Zakhertan Yozdek doggedly relies on blood kin to stay informed of irregularities and true intent while upholding his innate distrust of anyone else, need I say more?"

Both Stark (Asger) and Svein concurred with a nod. As they exchanged a meaningful quick glance, a certain understanding had just then passed between them.  Stark (Asger) was very intrigued indeed with the scope (degree, amount) of information Alec had in his possession. Aside from the question of validity, what concerned Stark (Asger) most were the source and the means by which Alec had come by it all.

Stark hence inwardly pondered. With what other tactical advantages has this supposed Alec Therkan, been furnished?

Hmm, two can play this game. Stark (Asger) feigned that he had seemingly heard enough. 

Anticipating Alec’s nourishment needs by about now, Stark (Asger) whispered his instructions to Svein and sent him along to fetch a new pot of tea and some sustenance.

 Stark (Asger) then as if in an afterthought, going over, personally untied Alec's bonds and removed them.  As he did this, he, with sincerity in his voice, apologized for the inconvenience and the precautions.

When Svein returned, Alec was invited to partake of the food and though Alec craved wine, for he was spent with all that discourse, he quaffed (consumed) several cups of tea after chomping on the rather surprisingly delicious morsels. His immediate hunger satiated; his face flushed when he realized his impropriety. After brief muttering of recriminations against himself, "Please overlook my rude indiscretion.” shamefaced Alec humbly asked their pardon, "for I’m afraid, I have unwittingly adopted some coarse mannerisms of Duan's during our long term together.  I ask most humbly for your Lordship's indulgence and forgiveness."

"Apologies are quite unnecessary,” Stark (Asger) cordially (affably) responded.

  "In a remote dwelling such as this, sir, you are not required to stand at a ceremony.  Please be at your ease and treat us instead as just old acquaintances."

"You are too kind, my Lord,” Alec replied, rising to bow to Asger, "but I would not dare to be so presumptuous." Only after much persuasion did Alec finally accede to Stark’s (Asger's) wishes.

Afterward, Alec without reserve ate his fill, even though he’d detected a certain taste in some of the delectable edibles, mushroom of sorts that was associated with a mild sedative.  Inwardly he grinned, somewhat amused by this sustained (incessant) astute precaution on Asger’s part.

 As they consumed more cups of the strong brewed tea, Stark (Asger) asked to learn more of the country's current political and economic state, and then more specifically asked after Lord Shonne Gulbrand's alleged activities.  He listened to Alec's relayed news with rapt attention, hanging on to his every word.

Sitting up the rest of the night, Alec told how at one point in time, while the major portion of the country was cast into ceaseless turmoil and widespread discontent resulting from catastrophic natural events, the factional strife between the Yozdek relatives entrenched in powerful positions, surmounting the political disturbances and instability, had seriously weakened the seemingly sound central government to the very core.  With indignation he next elaborated on how while many countrymen suffered under the tyrannical rule of the oppressive regime- burdened with heavy taxation and ruthless exploitation or pressed into hard military service: the aristocratic gentry enjoyed many of life’s luxuries scheming or vying the whole time for even more power.

 “Consequently hitherto (until now), in various sectors there’s been violent eruptions or to put it plainly, sporadic pockets of rebellion, furthering the nation’s instability.” Alec took in a breather and leaned back.

"Rebellions, insurrectionist skirmishes," again Svein interposed to ask skeptically, "how is it that we have not heard or experienced any such feat in this region?"

"You are so very far removed from the capital, sir,” came Alec's impatient, sardonic response with his bemused smile, "or any civilization for that matter.  In this God and government forsaken sector of the Empire, in this barren region where there is so little economic gain to be had, where law and order is rarely enforced, with the populace left to fend for themselves like wild beasts and where only daily survival is paramount in importance, how then do you, sir, expect to be drawn into the rest of the country's concerns?”

"Of course, your perceptions are apt, sir, but was there any requisite for such a protracted, sarcastic diatribe (homily)?” Stark (Asger) timely intervened in an icy tone, thus curbing Svein's hot retort.

 You are shrewd, I give you that… You’d rather play ignorant and volunteer nothing; very well, no goading for now.

"I offer my most humble apologies to your Lordship and your nephew", Alec quickly backed off, "for my negligent, careless words and manner." 

Things on the outset duly pacified, Alec then went on to describe in detail how the rest of the country at present was being transformed by the gradual, sweeping tide of revolution.  "Lord Shonne Gulbrand, the only one in a position to do so, my Lord, has all along secretly lent his invaluable support to the various insurgent rebel forces and adapting gorilla welfare tactics, aided them in successfully engaging the government troops in countless serious confrontations, chiefly at the lucrative southwestern border regions.  In these newly secured territories, the insurgents’ combining   force with the (indigenous) foreigners has, time and again, been a bane and a serious contender, forcing the central government inevitably to further deplete its treasury."

If only that were true, Asger looked away, musing. 

 

(END OF SECTION 8)