LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE RESCUE - SECTION 3

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC

THE RESCUE- SECTION 3

                                                    

Jiense (Teuquob) after having washed up, she had waited patiently for a time seated at the edge of the bed, for her hosts to call in on her. Then feeling bit famished, she had sauntered to where the tray with food was and helped herself to some delectable tidbits, after which, again in the same repose, waited for their return.

Well, disposed, in this interim her eyes had leisurely scanned the room: it was kept impeccably (spotlessly) clean and with everything attractively arranged in their respective places.  The walls bore shelves filled with bound books and countless scrolls.  Going over, she’d picked one, then another, perused through each but could not decipher the strange writings or ideograms (ideographs) that was so meticulously laid out (each contained).  Then her attention was drawn to Svein’s spare hunting gear off to the side, hung up for future use.  Running her fingers over it, she astutely studied the fine artisanship of the bow and the quiver, holding some thirty arrows.  She was reminded of his heroic stature all during their adventurous escapade of the past number of days. Just then she was again distracted when her attention was drawn to a beautiful ink painting farther to her left.  Done on silk, and then mounted on the wall for easier viewing, the scene depicted was breathtakingly beautiful and most lifelike.  As she gazed at the scenery, she felt the coolness of the misty veil of twilight that shrouded the low-lying valleys at the foot of these majestic mountains.  She could feel herself breathing the fresh mountain air into her lungs.  The flight of the birds was captured in such a true likeness that they looked as though they would, at any given moment, fly out of the picture towards her.  She stood there admiring the painting for quite some time, then once more she looked about her.

The few tastefully crafted pieces of furniture accentuated the elegant lines of the room and the other simple pieces.  Clearly this was no ordinary hunter’s lodge.  Everything about these two, their refined speech and manner, the presence of books and art, all spoke of a cultured, perhaps an aristocratic individual.  Yet same time devoid of least conceit or any egotistical pride, they conducted themselves with such unassuming, humble decorum.  Her curiosity now peaked; she wished she could some ways learn their language to resolve this conundrum, this quizzical enigma. Perhaps she could persuade the old gentlemen, though stern as he was, he may yet prove approachable if asked nicely, to educate, rather enlighten her on the indigenous, verbal language.

A moment or so, she was back at seated position at the edge of the bed awaiting their contact. But as time progressed and there was still no sign of

either of them, overcome with tiredness she had reclined on her side and gingerly laid her head on the raised, pristine pillow intending only to rest for a spell; instead, short time later she’d succumbed to a deep sleep. 

                                                                                  ~ 

Presently, the knock on the door awakened her with a start. How long had she slept? Thank goodness it was not dark yet. At once jumping up she composed herself in a respectful seated position at the edge of the bed; after exhaling deeply, she coughed loudly to sound her ascent and waited perfectly poised to receiving her gracious hosts.

Entering the room, Stark indicated to her to remain seated then pulled up a chair beside her. Lifting his medicine box onto the night table, he opened it. The first layer contained a set of beautifully crafted medical tools, a testament to the goldsmith’s art, gauze of fine silk and so forth.  He lifted out this section, placing it to the side, and revealed the underneath section, carefully segmented, which contained some forty or fifty miniature porcelain bottles of different glazes and colors, each filled with different potions to treat a variety of ailments.  He chose one of light, sky blue and, after prying out the stopper with one hand. He poured some of it onto cotton gauze and after receiving permission, very carefully applied it to her cuts and bruises. Though it stung quite a bit, she bore the pain stoically, allowing him without undue interruption, to finish the job of tending to her wounds.

Stark with his most attentive care as well oversaw to the rest of her anticipated needs.  She could not manage speech and, with her eyes and sign language she strove to convey to him her intense feelings of deep gratitude. Appreciating the effort, he’d simply nodded with an amicable smile and urged her to get some more rest. The supper will take a while still to be readied.

When the aromatic, flavorful smells of stewing meat and choice vegetables drifted into the room and reached Teuquob, it woke her from her lengthy nap ravenous, yet feeling absolutely refreshed.

That evening she ate all the generous (portions) serving of food on her plate and even had seconds.

Stark was somewhat pleased at being so aptly appreciated for his culinary skills. Female gender always expressed themselves ever so delightfully!

Though her stomach was full (bursting at the seams), out of politeness, she’d even partaken some of the sumptuous, rare fruits and other such dried morsels laid out for the finishing course. 

After the fine tea, refusing her help, she was politely asked to retire to her room for good night’s rest, that of which, she’d obliged quite willingly. Back in the privacy of her room, she was delighted at finding an immaculate, folded nightdress, best suited one they could find, for her use. Undressing quickly, she’d downed it, which wasn’t a bad fit, and crawled in under the warm quilt, for as much as it was summer, nights in the mountain this altitude, was still quite chilly. She had expected the roaring of the predatory animals milling about at outside would keep her up all night, but no sooner had her head rested on the plush pillow, that she was instantly succumbed to deep slumber.

Same could not be said, about Stark and Svein. Exhausted as Svein was- for it had been a rather long, grueling day- still, he was by no means ready to retire. After the dishes were cleared away, seated comfortably then by the raging fire in the central room that served as both the dining room, kitchen and study room, Svein, over another fresh cup of tea, related succinctly to his beloved uncle his adventures, and the circumstances under which he’d encountered and rescued the “damsel in distress”.

As she’d been unconscious at the time, he had little choice but to take her along; later still, thought they could not utilize Wenjenkun’s proper language for communication, she’d nevertheless, shown willingness to follow him. Constrained (compelled) with the certain sense of obligation for her welfare, he’d taken the chance and in defiance of the rule, had brought her here.

Under the circumstances Stark could not fault (or raise least objections to) Svein’s reasoning and nodded his albeit reluctant ascent; then he’d quietly listened on to the rest of the young man’s narrated adventures and the rather intriguing details of his ensued, rousing actions, till it was time for them to retire.

                                                                                 ~

Subsequent morning, both Stark and Svein rose at the crack of dawn and went about quietly accomplishing their daily routine chores; but out of deference for the young lady, she was allowed to sleep as long as she wished.

When Teuquob finally awoke and rose from the bed, she found clean, neatly folded towel and fresh supply of water in the porcelain wash basin for her use.

After dressing up she opened her door slightly ajar and peered at the living quarters expecting to greet them, but there was no one about.  After moment’s hesitation, she emerged at the living quarters and called out to elicit response from her hosts, but soon realized that she was indeed, quite along in the cabin. Yet the stove was lit, and an iron kettle placed on top of it was letting off steam. 

Meanwhile there on the dining room table was some light fare that consisted of fruits and nuts and some grains, and a loaf and so on, for a suitable breakfast. The Teapot remarkably still contained rather hot brew of tea just right for consumption. She was hesitant to take part at first but upon reflection seeing that there was only one table setting, a single plate, utensil and a cup and everything was arranged in front of one chair, she readily understood that they must have already breakfasted (had theirs) and in anticipation of her needs, all that before her had been arranged (furnished) for her private (sole) indulgence.

Seated comfortably at the designated chair, she nevertheless hesitated for a moment or two longer. Meanwhile, her attention was temporarily drawn to the tall bookshelves with their volumes of bound books and rows of scrolls at the far end.  Before it stood a chair and desk which bore some more books with place markings jutting from each, a set of ivory brushes, carved lion paperweights done in a semi-precious stone, with blocks of ink beside them.  A few feet away rested a comfortable looking rocking chair with a small table beside it.  The door to the other room was tightly closed. 

There is so much I wish to know about them; for instance, are they scholars in seclusion or patricians? What propelled them or compelled them to choose this obviously difficult, sort of renegade, precarious existence? What about family and friends?  Very much intrigued, she again inwardly queried, before turning her attention back to the breakfast at hand. It looked quite appetizing, and she was famished after all. So, without further delay, she helped herself to some of the delectable fare, expecting them to at any moment to come through the main doorway; but long after she’d had her fill, there’d been still no sign of the men. She would have liked to have cleared the dishes and put things away, but her new and strange surroundings deterred her from this aim, not wishing to incur disfavor with the elderly gentlemen who appeared to be rather set in his ways. He might not appreciate her well-intended intrusion; somewhat reluctantly therefore, she left things as they were and went outside in search of her hosts. Standing at the doorstep, she scanned the immediate perimeter projecting her gaze as far as she could see; but to her dismay there was not a sign of them anywhere.

Where could they be? Did anything dreadful happen...? 

Suddenly she was beset with that uninvited dread; she forsook the only rational recourse of returning to the cabin to wait for them there, and instead opted to exploring the immediate vicinity. Her attention was at once elicited by the rustic, sturdily built structure that looked to be a stable and she walked towards it.  Once inside, she saw the most remarkable, the finest breed of war horse ever; the spirited steed was well taken care of, the floor was neatly swept, the trough contained fresh water, and he was contentedly eating the fodder that was piled high before him.  Carrying a special fondness for horses, she drew near and stroked his mane.  He stopped eating, neighed softly and nuzzled her arm.  Instantly, they’d become good friends.  When later still, she made certain mention of this to Stark, he’d appeared quite amazed; nevertheless, he concealed from her how this horse was, in fact, quite willful, temperamental and unapproachable. 

Adjacent to the stable was a smaller structure which she soon discovered it to be a smoke storehouse. Emerging outside, her attention this time was drawn to that small, cultivated section of herbs, vegetables, and other such presumably eatable greens of diverse varieties.  Going over, she studied them with interest, even recognizing some rare species that were known to have had some very important medicinal properties. 

Ensa would have been delighted at such an abundant arrangement- so well organized too! Perhaps, her hosts would allow her to help along with the gardening? “That way,” She mused. “I could be of some service and repay their kindness while furthering (expanding on) my knowledge of the horticulture that is indigenous to this region.”

 “Hmm… Her hosts, but where were they?”  Looking about her, rather impatiently, she again questioned the air.

“Perhaps if she were to venture little further… she may run into them?” 

 Subsequently, during pursuit, she’d dangerously strayed far beyond the safe circumference of the habitat. She did not think she’d gone too far following the scantily viable footpath, but before she knew it, she’d suddenly found herself immersed in the thick foliage having lost all sense of direction- Ups!

Unexpectedly, the unequivocal sounds of combat coming from little ways yonder, reached her ears and despite her better judgment, her heart laden with misgivings still succumbing to the subconscious wish to investigate, involuntarily propelled her feet to advance towards the direction of the noise. Fortunately, she had the good sense to halt part way before she happened on the volatile scene and using apt discretion, instead, she peered through the opening in the foliage. The vista that her eyes beheld - both Stark and Svein naked to waist, locked in the fiercest of armed conflict- verily shocked and same time dismayed her. 

Subsequent minute each of them a blur, they wielded their swords with such consummate skill, affecting such deadly strikes on the opponent, that the act lasting for a spell, yet seemingly perpetual, quaked the very earth and the sky.

More incredible still, in the blinking of an eye the combatants and the circumference next became invisible, as all were sucked into that vortex of the blinding swirling clouds of dust and flying debris. 

Shaken to the core, she withdrew at once back into the shadows and after having steadied her nerves, inwardly now queried, “Have I dreamt it? How can it be…Such force, the like of which I have never, ever seen! How could mere mortals affect such vigor, such potency?”  Though she could not resolve this quandary, nevertheless, she assured herself, that there had to be a valid explanation for what she’d just observed. As it were, in all that time spent with Svein, and despite his unbelievable strength and stamina, she’d never once questioned his authenticity. She nodded, deciding to hang onto that prior intuition; however, with the ground incessantly shaking beneath her feet and her ears still ringing with the noise, she found it hard to repute the existing extraordinary circumstances and inwardly again quizzed, “Such force, the incredible speed…Surely they could not, but be, of the spirit world!”  Moreover, the persistent strong imagery, Svein and Stark liken to the two immortals, demigods or titans fighting, refused to dissipate or go away.

What had she gotten herself into?

Unbidden, just then another concern crept into her heart to further unsettle her: Why were they fighting? 

A moment or so later, still agitated, wringing her hands, she’d leaned her head and back against the thick trunk of an ancient tree, to sort things out for herself. “What possible reason or argument provoked such an outcome between the two? Was she the cause of this contention? The elder gentlemen had at the beginning, when he first laid eyes on her from afar, looked rather displeased.  He had later, rather reticently perhaps, been cordial, even kind. Could she have been mistaken about the tell-tale (indicator) signs of her being welcome nevertheless?”

Unwilling to look, through the sounds and the undeniable vibration beneath her feet, she could still determine the intensity of ongoing conflict; pinned to the spot, with her eyes trailing the invisible lines on the plush, grass carpeted ground, she now struggled with the inner dilemma: the urge to flee or to intercede! 

Just then however the eternal disturbance ceased as the two abruptly broke off their deadly engagement (dispute/ contest) and Stark began instructing Svein on the alternate measures and varied maneuvers. 

With her mind now at ease, she heaved a deep sigh and shook her head, feeling somewhat foolish.  “So, they had only been practicing. How absurd she’d been to have thought otherwise.” 

“But it had looked so real, so deadly!” She reiterated inwardly, in her defense. “Perhaps in her agitation, she had unwittingly imagined the intensity as well. Under the circumstances, as it would be improper of her to resume with her spying, she might as well announce (disclose) her presence.”

She brushed aside the foliage and stepped out into the clearing; before she could accost them however, she was again startled, rather stymied by what she saw, and it had actually, this time, registered in her brain- Stark’s amputated right arm with the part missing right below the elbow, the naked flesh of the stump now exposed in plain view.  Previously in the pitched fighting with their swift agile maneuvers, moves that had been executed with such precision that the combatants had appeared as though a single entity; and earlier still, perhaps due to her extreme mental and physical fatigue, she’d not paid any particular attention or given any credence to the immobile, rather, the missing portion of the arm of her host, especially since it had remained well concealed under the long sleeved fine garbs. In her defense, he’d carried himself with such finesse and a natural bearing that even the most astute observer would have overlooked it.  Be that as it may, at present quickly bracing herself from this added shock and assuming the correct composure, she’d willed her feet in the direction towards them.

                                                                                            ~

   (More exciting facts are revealed in the next post of The rescue, section 4)                                                                                

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE RESCUE - SECTION 2

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC

THE RESCUE - SECTION 2

A small game was roasting over the fire when she suddenly came to.

Having regained consciousness and suddenly recollecting the panther, she bolted to a seating position with a start. Her terrified, baffled gaze however, was met with a mitigating, polite smile from a decisively handsome young man who proceeded to speak to her in a soothing, foreign tongue that she did not, could not truly comprehend. His dialect, the enunciations was even varied from that of Kaimu, his wife Ensa, neighbor Zianko or the son Yoansu’s. One thing was clear however the danger/the otherwise certain death from the beast was gone, and the intensions of her presumed rescuer, as far as she could tell with some measure of certainty, were both honorable and good. He conducted himself with proper decorum and seemed to be both knowledgeable and one of fine breeding. Anticipating her thirst, he had quickly provided her with water from a wooden cup, which she partook appreciatively.

 Hoping that he might be acquainted with her native language, presently she voiced her appreciation for the rescue and for his taking such diligent care of her. Then at a loss what else to say and just then noting his quiver full of arrows laid at the side, quickly asked how he happened to be on this God-forsaken Mountain: was he sporting a hunt?

But her articulated responses were sadly, quite mystifying (baffling) to the young man. In the end, the frustrating exertion made more difficult by the mutual attraction, all they had managed were the polite but succinct introductions: her choosing to announce Jiense as her name to this amicable stranger, and he in turn had mentioned the name Svein. The ensued awkward moment of silence nevertheless was cut short, when Svein noting that the meat was about ready, forwent the wearisome communication and going over, and using his long knife skillfully, sliced off some choice pieces from the main body of the skewered meat, placed them onto wooden slat that served as a plate and brought it over to her for her consumption.

“It’s probably not what you are used to, but please partake some.”   He insisted; suspecting they would have a better luck at the verbal exchange on fuller stomachs.

As Jiense was already famished she accepted it gratefully and without ceremony, soon after chewing, swallowing the delicious, succulent meat, not pausing even to ask, or bothering to guess at what manner of specious she was ingesting.

In the aftermath, warmed by the raging fire, and well fed, using a sign language, she had again thanked him profusely for rescuing her from the maw of the panther- this time more at ease, she utilized her innate skills and therefore more effectively transmitted her intent. Then fell silent wondering what had happened to the beast, worst still, what other prevalent dangers lay ahead?

Deciphering her concerns, by means of sign language and hand gestures he hastened to convey to her that he was both a competent and a willing protector and would most certainly deliver her to safety. His reassuring smile was reciprocated, by a grateful one from her. Then all at once both gone bashful, they had averted (lowered) their eyes. That night she had slept blissfully sound, content to be under his care- for even though she had known him for scant period (such a short while), listening to her intuitive heart, she had placed her implicit trust in him and thereon felt more hopeful for the future.

The subsequent day’s journey, hard as it was, it could be said that it was delightfully exhilarating and even adventurous. When she became tired, he offered, insisted on carrying her and that he did, with certain ease, covering great distances despite the steep ascent- all the while effectively shielding or periodically fending off the all-pervasive treats from predatory animals with astounding regularity in speed and skill in archery. Furthermore, at sundown, when they halted, in contrast to her, he showed no fatigue.

If she marveled at his resilient stamina, his competence, his handsome features or many other fantastically intrinsic (inherent) attributes, she kept them to herself noting (observing) his strange but true, humble nature and bashfulness.

Meanwhile, as he had been encumbered because of her needs of shelter and sustenance and his other charge, of hunting for game along the way- it had taken them additional five- or six-day’s arduous journey, instead of two, to reach their goal.

Their subsequent path took them right through a precarious topography of high ridges, then a dense forest, each leg of the journey being more arduous than the rest. Then at one point, Svein carefully pushed aside the thick foliage that successfully hid an entrance to a deep cavern.

Before they proceeded to inside Svein halting and then withdrawing from his pouch two sun-dried shoots (buds), handed these to Jiense and signaled for to chew to extract their juice. The juice she can swallow, but the pulp, she was made-to-understand, she should spit it out. She did, as she was, told. The taste, a bit unpleasant, was both bittersweet and sour at the same time. Then, as she chewed, a strange sort of sensation came over her. Her head became dazed; she felt a total lack of inhibition, no fear, as though she was now invincible. Svein, seeing the transformation in her, smiled and politely ushered Jiense (Teuquob) into the cavern. Further in, to (manage) cope with the pitch darkness, Teuquob hung on tightly to the young man’s sleeve as latter led the way, navigating the turns and twists of the rocky, unstable, and dangerous terrain with sure footing. Periodically, there would be certain hair-raising echoes borne out of the deep that (despite the effectiveness of the drug) still put her soul in fright; though invisible to her, she still perceived the existence of chasms, noted the divergent sounds of water, some gushing streams, or trickling brooks far in distance or quite near. Then came the fluttering of wings, bats, and many other such phantom sounds along the way, which unleashed her wildest imagination and sent icy chills up her spine, all the while gripping her heart in an inexplicable fear. At such times, sensing her trepidation, he would abruptly stop and seek out her hand, then gently squeeze it with encouragement.

Since entering the cavern, he had not uttered a single word and when once she coughed supposedly to clear her throat from the perceived dust, rather, to get his attention, he’d quickly hushed her by placing his hand over her mouth, as if peril would arise from such action. Thinking that he needed his hearing to guide his advance- better that, than thinking there were carnivorous, nocturnal winged vertebrates or other such scary beast in readiness to pounce on them- she had remained silent from there on.

They had advanced blindly for what it seemed to Jiense (Teuquob) an eternity, with her imagination playing havoc all the while on the summation of all her fears. Halting briefly once or twice they had eaten dry rations which he had on him, and then continued in this dangerous realm. She was relieved when long at last they reached the end of this elongated subterranean tunnel, safest one amongst the perilous two, that (presumably) cut across underneath the majestic mountain peak, and finally exited the cavern. Thought it was typically the late afternoon of an overcast day, it still took a while for her eyes to adjust to the light that greeted them.

After a brief respite, they resumed their journey that led them to the crossing of a stream then another perilous ridge. Then they trudged upwards yet another steep climb, Teuquob in tow of the young man following an invisible goat’s path and whenever the path widened, she would opt to walking alongside him, all the while trying her best keep up. The perpetual increase in topographic elevation however, eventually caused Teuquob to more frequently labor for breath and to succumb to the inescapable fatigue that plagued her every fiber of her being. This impediment forced her resilient companion hence, to periodically make unscheduled stops or simply carry her- an added encumbrance on top of by then accumulated ponderous load- the bounty of game.

On the morning of the sixth day, they had another, endless, laborious ascent. Having traversed yet another ridge, they dove into denser part of the limitless forest and after cutting across a heavy curtain of thick foliage they quite suddenly emerged into a clearing.

Disbelieving her eyes, Teuquob rubbed them and looked on. The unbelievable scene that greeted Teuquob, which she now took in with a breathtaking zeal, encompassed a phantasmal picture that defied all-norm- a safe habitat existing in such remote wilderness?

True enough, there up ahead in that well-tended open space stood an encased structure that contained within its vicinity: a sturdily built wooden cabin with a thin coiling smoke emanating from the tall chimney at its rooftop; off to one side was a modest stable; then a structure of a storehouse could be seen, and yonder still, a smaller hut that clearly served as an outhouse.  A small patch of encircled ground adjacent to the hut was reserved for a thriving vegetable or an herbal garden.

At the dominating structure that boasted of a covered platform/ a small porch by the entrance, there could be seen a seated elderly gentleman with a well-groomed shoulder-length mahogany brown hair. He had a streak of white hair off his temples that gave him a dignified air; he sported a very becoming thin mustache and a neatly trimmed short beard that further complimented the handsome features of his face. His judicious, prudent manner and noble bearing commanded from any onlooker most profound awe and respect; furthermore, to Jiense’s (Teuquob’s) eyes, with his fine, stalwart physique, he resembled more a general, a commander in chief pondering on or contemplating some strategic warfare, than a mere recluse. Dressed in exquisite damask attire (garb), he appeared to be enjoying a pensive smoke from a long carved ivory pipe, which he held in his left hand.

The very moment that Svein and his companion had come into view, the esteemed man’s eyes discreetly meeting Svein’s, it could be said that a glimmer of both delight and concern had registered in those stern pupils, but still he had not stirred from his seat.

The youth presently gave an encouraging look to Jiense (Teuquob) as if to say please advance with me, then quickened his pace to reach the steps of the small porch. As they made their advance, upon closer scrutiny she noted that the end of the long sleeve, of his immobile right arm, going through the overgarment’s side slit, was neatly tucked in under a silk belt at the waist.

Svein having quickly unburdened himself of the loads, he now squarely faced his elder, gave a respectful half-bow, and said in a fond, reverent tone, “Greetings, Uncle, I hope you have been well in my absence.”

The elderly gentlemen’s lips dawned a shadow of wry grin- a slight curving of the ends; he thoughtfully took another puff from his pipe then rose from his seat and facing the youth, in a clear intonation reciprocated latter’s affection with a nod of his head, “Greetings, Nephew. Thank you for your regard. The length of your absence had given me a pause for concern, till that is; my ears tracked (detected) you and your willing accompaniment’s slow advance.”     The manner of his voice tad stern and reproachful, his eyes had surreptitiously now trailed onto her.

“Forgive me, uncle”, the youth hastened to explain, “for my negligence in failing to show proper respect.” In reference to the girl beside him, he then quickly added. “I would have made the proper introductions right away; however, as I’m encumbered by the inability of properly communicating with her in her strange dialect, I’d hesitated.”

“I see,” the uncle looked away. “Though I am sure you had a particularly good reason for bringing her along. Later perhaps you may elaborate on the details of how you came by her?”  With a thoughtful air he then placed his long pipe on the small table and descended the few steps. Coming forward to proximity, he succinctly, but astutely studied the extraordinary girl draped in fineries that were inappropriate for surviving in the woods. Yet his polite, brief perusal, (observation) had revealed, that other than few cuts and minor bruises on her face and hands, there were no other wear and tear on either the fabric that looked to be damask silk or her footwear. The total absence of normal dirt or the least amount of dust on her garments further intrigued him.

STARK

Discerning his uncle’s thoughts, the young man nodded. “I have been baffled by that too uncle; clearly her attire bespeaks of supernatural element. Yet she is, and all during, behaved every bit a mortal being.”

“Does this mortal-being have a name?” The uncle then asked in a voice devoid of any emotion.

“Begging your pardon uncle, but as far as I can tell, she is called Jiense. Yet her spoken dialect had born little, if any semblance to the mainstream or any other Indigenous groups in Wenjenkun. At the beginning of our meeting, we have strived, but in vain, at any sort of linguistic communication…” The uncle’s raised hand had at once silenced the youth (cut short the babbling/inconsequential chatter).

” Hmm…And there is quite a variety of indigenous groups within and bordering states of Wenjenkun; hence, this mystery may not be resolved in the briefest time”. The uncle looking away had mused.

 “I presume you’ve hence communicated by way of sign language?”

The youth nodded in the affirmative.

Hearing her adopted name meanwhile, Jiense (Teuquob) had smiled and raising her head and meeting the old man’s keen eyes now, nodded to him in greeting timidly, then respectfully pronounced her name, Jiense. She had gone along with that name, as she felt in this strange continent it would not bestir suspicion that her true name would.

He reciprocated in kind, by announcing his name to her in a congenial, clear mode. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance Jiense with no last name. As we are extant (living, existent) in this wilderness, I shall dispense with my proper last name Therran and in kind, you may refer to me as simply, Stark.” He had pointed to his chest and enunciated the name again: “Stark.”

Understanding, she had uttered his name with due reverence and bowed again in proper greeting.

He in turn nodded then smiled, acknowledging her polite attempt.

“She is clearly one of fine breeding, which makes it more a conundrum.”

“She will be allowed to stay with us for a while, won’t she Uncle, if not indefinitely?” Svein in his impatience could not stay his tongue.

“You are getting on ahead of yourself as usual,” Stark frowned. “We shall see, meanwhile it would be prudent of us to proceed with caution while taking the necessary progression,” then as if still pondering on the unusual circumstance, he added quietly to himself, “yes best to proceed one step at a time...A seemingly delicate, solitary being of high caliber surviving in the wilderness, hmm!”

 “Deducing from your omitted facts, I assume that you’d not encountered any other being, a guardian, a guide, serving companions or such, dead or alive, within that vicinity!” He paused again to thoughtfully stroke his beard. “Nevertheless, it’s quite rude of us to speak of her, however improbable the ready communication, as though she is not here.” Snapping out of it, he gave a polite nod and simply smiled at her then turned to address Svein. “For the time being at least, please take her to your prior room and allow her to wash up and attain some rest.” 

Noting the emphasis on the word “prior,” Svein smiled and readily acquiesced; for it was only proper that from hence he would be sharing his uncle’s room.      

Turning to squarely face Jiense, Svein signaled for her to follow him; the two then took their leave of the uncle and with Jiense in tow, quickly climbed the steps, disappearing inside the cabin. Opening the far door to the right, Svein ushered the young lady in to a small room that contained sparse, nevertheless elegantly crafted fine-wood furnishings, strategically placed few art objects of rare, intrinsic beauty and ornate, clearly unused bedpan with a lid jutting underneath the only night table.

Her glance (perusing) trailing onto the bed with exquisitely embroidered, immaculately clean silk comforter, had inadvertently lingered. This is a quaint, eccentric luxury to find in a rustic cabin in the woods. She mused. They were not what they seemed.

A polite caught (a clearing of a throat) just then from her companion drew her attention to Svein.

The young man smiling bashfully with a hand gesture indicated to her instead the porcelain wash basin and jar filled with water that was on an antique chest, hanging nearby was the pristine white towel.

Without the use of language, he as much told her to make herself comfortable, but first she may wish to refresh herself by washing her hands and face. This room will be hers from here on; to rest a while and if anything was not to her liking, she was at liberty to amend or discard it.

Svein subsequently going over to the far side, he hastily fetched the small exquisitely carved mahogany and leather hand baggage that had contained his personal spare belongings and private garments. Opening it, he picked up the few others that were neatly folded in a drawer of a dresser to add to it (bureau), collected few hanging by the makeshift cupboard and, after politely nodding his head, quickly withdrew from the room, allowing her the privacy to adjust to her new surroundings.

Svein returned shortly after however, with a tray of tidbits, in case she required nourishment. Supper, owing to the work ahead, could be long time in coming.

Jiense (Teuquob) smiled at Svein fondly- inwardly she was frustrated by her inability to communicate the extent of her gratitude and yet same time, remained absolutely touched by the gentle concern he showed for her welfare.

                                                                                             ~

Svein had no trouble settling in his uncle’s room; once everything was neatly placed, he went outside and begun helping his uncle, who’d already, had a change of clothing, to safely preserve and store the abundant game (the meat) in the smoke house for their future use. They in silence worked quickly and methodically, first by skinning, then gutting and collecting in a special clay pot the entire contents of the innards of each game.

After a brief “Ceremony of Fire,” where invocations/certain prayers were said and the contents turned to ashes were buried deep in the ground, they then carefully washed the reminder carcasses, salted each and hung them over a smoldering fire, smoke, in the shed to dry. Ceremony of Fire was an integral part of the preparation, for their deep rooted ideology (creed, dogma) held the tenet (principle) that an animal’s existence came from the viscera (guts) and in this way, the hunted animal that had given his life for their survival, would be reborn again soon after. Thereof the life-force in the mountain would not be interrupted and the souls of the animals would always be returned to its steward, Rognar, the Mountain God. Rognar appeased, he would hence not hinder the future hunts or visit the hunter with some calamity.

Mountain God Rognar

At the conclusion of the requisite work, both Svein and Stark returned to the cabin, fetched fresh set of clothing, and walking alongside again in silence, for Stark did not encourage (even detested) idle chatter, quickly trailed a well-traveled goat’s path to wash up at the cascading icy stream. This mode of cleansing/hygiene had always been quite adequate for the two, but with the furtherance of each step, both  had privately on the side now pondered on the concerns and certain  impending future requirements or requisite adjustments her mere presence would entail- regrettably impinging on many of their otherwise well regimented routines.

Svein was not least bit perturbed by this; he welcomed the portended changes. Same could not be said about Stark however, even though he had thus far kept his views to himself, in truth he had been disquieted by this untoward added burden of a guest that could further complicate matters that were already precarious enough. By rights, his own life should have been long ago forfeited, having already joined with his honorable ancestors in the nether region. The sole purpose, chief reason for the opprobrious prolongation of his existence had been to honor an oath and to fulfill a pledge: to  shield and to prepare Svein for that impending future event, by undertaking the daunting task of overseeing (supervising) Svein’s welfare and education in both fields- literary, political and military. Her presence could be a serious impingement to this objective or (perhaps) a boon to that of which was yet to be determined. Regardless, seeing the definite hand of fate in this, he would albeit reluctantly, accepted this added, surplus encumbrance or, a challenge.

That afternoon, as Svein was left to overseeing to some other pressing matters, Stark, first topped the iron kettle with added fresh water, and placed it on the burner alongside the pot containing meat and vegetables, for it to boil. They would have the ceremonial tea after the gratification of sustenance.

Deeming the time appropriate, Stark fetched the small medicine box, and going over, he gently tapped on her door before entering.

(END OF SECTION 2)

 

                                                                                          ~

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC- THE ORDEAL - SECTION 4

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC  

THE ORDEAL - SECTION 4

 

Chenko Haken had at first been torn with the urgency of comforting Teuquob; nevertheless, opting to offer his polite excuses he’d soon as he could, hastened out the room after his aunty to bid his final farewells; but alas, the spry old lady was already gone! Not resigned to let it go at that, he’d still rushed his steps in a fruitless pursuit catching eventually a fleeting glimpse of her as she’d darted out the back gate to be shortly after swallowed up by the darkness of the night, with her receding form blending well into the distant shadows. Shoulders stooped, with a lowered head, eyes glistening with tears Chenko Haken uttered his silent farewells and prayers none the less; then abruptly turned to (secure) bolt the door after him. 

He knew he would never see her again. But that was not the worst of it. He feared for the inquisition and many tortures she might be forced to endure as she bought them the precious, requisite time for their successful escape.

Suddenly, quite unbidden, anger set in and turned to rage swelling up his chest at the recollection of the innumerable injustices of their times that had necessitated such sacrifices from gentlefolk. 

Get a grip on yourself. He heaved a deep sigh and unclenched his fist as he quietly admonished himself.  There was no time for such sentimentality. Then his thoughts veered to Teuquob. Good God, I’ve left her all along, poor thing, all by herself in a strange place! More furious now for his negligence, he composed himself and returned pronto to the parlor.

The sight that greeted him, her stoic stance in view of what she faced and might be feeling inwardly, doused (plunged) his heart in shame.   After his respectful address and the subtle words of encouragement, he offered to take her to her allocated (designated) room wherewith she could take in a well-earned rest for the night.

“I’ve left a few amenities there for Your Ladyship’s comfort,” abruptly halting by the door, he’d turned to squarely face her- in the interim barely missing running into her. After a confounded silence, he’d bashfully enumerated the facilities placed at her disposal, ending it with, “but if there is anything further, you’ll require, please do not hesitate to pull at the crimson cord by the bedpost, which will ring the bell in my room and summon me to your presence.  My parents sometime prior have already withdrawn to their country retreat on the assumption that I was to follow them later, at the conclusion of my annual studies and special military training. When my aunt approached me with this worthy proposal, agreeing to it at once, I fabricated an illness and got a temporary leave of absence from the Academy.  Subsequently, as part of the necessary preparations, I took the added precaution of already dismissing all the household and personal servants, on the presumption of my supposed proposed early departure, the yearly excursion inland to the inherited estate of my maternal Uncle. Still, the house is well secured. No intruder can bypass the locks.” In his nervousness he’d babbled on such. Testament to her tolerant and kind nature, she’d with due patience had listened, despite her overwhelming tired state (her overwhelming tiredness).

He turned crimson realizing tad too late, his lapse in judgment; then hastily apologized for the unwarranted delay. As he politely directed her next towards her quarters, inwardly he sternly reproached himself for his thoughtlessness, his shameful infraction and blundering. Positioned slightly ahead of her, his legs, meanwhile, in defiance to his will, had felt like dead bolts, straining at each step. Finally reaching the prepared room, he opened the door and invited her in. At least now more composed, he articulated the appropriate sentiments and well-wishes for her comfortable stay.

After an appropriate time, he was now prepared to take his leave. “Please, Your Ladyship, try to gain some rest.  Tomorrow promises to be a diversion from the norm; it might be exhilarating or be perhaps a most trying day.”  His heart became filled with remorse of having yet again blundered. “What must she be thinking of me?” He looked searchingly into her eyes as if his soul was balanced on the tip of his tongue, but then merely said, “I’ll leave you now.”, and abruptly turned.

There was no effective, cleaver way to salvage his dignity! Her incredible beauty had taken him by surprise. It had both exhilarated and suffocated him at the same time. A surge of emotions, the intensity of which never experienced, had spontaneously yet again taken hold of his being, reducing him to a detestable, bumbling fool. All he could hope for now, was that perhaps tomorrow, after a good night’s rest, he would behave more himself, with more decorum.

“I’m most grateful to you, sir.” He heard Teuquob just then bashfully enunciate (articulate, utter, convey) after him in her sweet, melodious voice.

Brightness beamed from Chenko Haken’s face as he turned back to protest to say it was his privilege to be of any small service to her, that it was not worth mentioning, that his only wish was to see her happy in even the slightest way.  Then he hastily withdrew before he could commit another accidental blunder, bidding her goodnight.

I must pinch myself to make sure that I’m not dreaming, he mused, as his dutiful steps involuntarily led him away from her.  From the first moment I’d laid eyes on her, her graceful countenance, her infinite beauty so enchanted me, so intoxicated my senses, that I dared not steal a glance at her for fear of revealing my innermost thoughts to Auntie Shutizan.  Finally, when we were left alone, instead of shining, quite the opposite, I made such a fool of myself! But perhaps under the circumstances, I may be excused, for it was enough that I curtailed the surging range of emotions that so suddenly overtook my heart, vehemently urging me to make bold confessions of my deep infatuation.  Dare I yield to the wild temptation, the excited passion that so propels me to run back to her and take this most delicate, most exquisite of all creatures into my arms?  My heart is gripped with such longing that it pains me. Still, I cannot betray the trust placed in me…Tormented as I am, I shall conduct myself with due decorum, suppressing, abandoning such wayward emotions to a dream state only. She must never know how I feel!  

Resolved to this grievous loss, he heaved a deep sigh; then raised his eyes to the antique family’s wall hangings (arras) that lined both sides of these corridors.  Their woven warm earth-tones painted vistas of Green Meadows, his maternal Grandfather’s country estate.  The ancestral villa spread itself over the foreground, its whitewashed wings; built when Chenko Haken was young, stretching out in front, protecting the land around it like the forelegs of a recumbent Angora cat.  Undulating hills rolled out in back, acre upon acre of lush farmland and verdant pasture stippled with cattle and sheep nestled within the protective embrace of the manor house. 

His mother and sisters would be there now visiting his grandfather and grandmother.

The year before last Chenko Haken had joined his father at Green Meadows and accompanied him on his many trips around the inland Provinces as he made the financial arrangements that would, at harvest time, fill his harbor warehouses to the rafters with fresh produce.  This time around because of the military training Chenko Haken had been constrained to remain behind in the city for at least till mid-summer; meanwhile he was entrusted with the responsibility of seeing to it that the repositories would be ready for the coming onslaught.  He would join the rest of the family later in season, in plenty of time for the harvest festival and for unbridled fun.

 In the far future he would take charge of the business from his father in the uplands while his younger brother stayed on in the city to tend to this end.  His future and vocation had been precisely (fixed) drawn up; they’d even selected a worthy mate for him from another well-established family and picked out the precise date of the mutually advantageous matrimony. The course of his life that disregarded his own personal wish- for that was not in the configuration of heredity (filial piety) - up till now had been rather mundane and predictable, until that is, his father’s spinster sister, Shutizan, who had been exalted far beyond anything the family could hope for, had covertly approached him last week with her irrefutable request.  From the moment of his ready compliance, his predictable life had been transposed; come what may, he considered himself fortunate, entrusted as such with the care and protection of a living angel.  Nor could he have conceived a more advantageous trade.  He would have mortgaged a thousand futures for just one minute in the presence of such a legendary beauty.  Shaking his head to collect his thoughts, for it’d suddenly struck him just where he was, he chuckled impishly.  Your head is in such a daze, Chenko Haken.  Look how you have walked past your own room.

About turn, he headed back; once through his door he threw himself upon the bed and grabbing hold of the pillow he squeezed it hard then caressed it.  Heaving a deep sigh, he next rolled onto his back and gazed unfocused on the ceiling.

“How could Heaven conceive such an angel?” he asked the thin air in a murmur barely audible.  In beauty and grace truly, she is without equal in this world of mortal men!

For a moment, just a moment he forgot himself, surrendering to that allusive fantasy world that he dared not transcend (have). “Clandestinely, day and night I shall feast my eyes on her lovely countenance, and when we are away in distant lands… dare I hope?” He questioned the air biting the corner of his lip; then lowering his gaze, whispered. “Perhaps I can win her affections… and if providence allows, in due course even win her hand in matrimony?” But then the image of his frowning aunt appearing in his mind’s eye, juxtaposed with Teuquob’s: brusquely brought him back to his senses and he recoiled in bitter remorse.  Wrenched with self-reproach, he groaned: “You are worse than a maggot to be thinking of her in this way, deserving of the worst punishments!  How dare you seek personal gratification out of this tragedy?”

That night restful sleep eluded him as his squirming and gyrating bound ever-tightening knots in his bedding.  Finally, just before dawn he felt exhausted into a short, fitful slumber.

Chenko Haken bolted upright as soon as the morning sun’s rays hit his eyelids.  His thoughts were still full of the beauty sleeping down the hall.  Once again, he stifled (curbed) the eccentric thoughts and the passion that had unbidden risen in his chest.  Instead, he concentrated on bringing the luggage he had packed yesterday down the stairs to the delivery entrance at the rear of the house.  From there it was but a few steps to the kitchen where he prepared a hot breakfast.

When Chenko Haken, tray in hand, finally knocked at Teuquob’s door, he could not help smiling with amusement at the young boy who let him in.  The disguise was truly endearing, dressed as she was in vest and leggings well suited to a scion of one of the Capital City’s wealthier families. However, the black knit cap, a last-minute compromise, was a tad too large and did not quite sit well on her head.  Meanwhile the few wavy strands of light brown hair (with golden blond highlights), that’d escaped to fall down over her flawlessly smooth skin was a sure giveaway, a testament to her delightful femininity having failed also in concealing the sky-blue eyes that twinkled like stars with the excited mischief of a shared secret.

Chenko Haken smiled, finding it easier now to address his own gender; the problem after all, could be addressed later, at the conclusion of breakfasting. “I hope the accommodations were adequate enough to have allowed you a restful sleep, however brief, My Lady.”

“Under the circumstances, I slept quite well, thank you.  Besides, I’ve always been an early riser.” Looking at the tray Chenko Haken was carrying, she politely protested. “But you shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble. A light fare would have been more than sufficient.” In truth, filled with anticipation, her stomach in many knots (as though bolted shut); she feared that she’d be unable to eat a single morsel (crumb).

“Please try my Lady, for you need to build up your stamina for what lies ahead if not the voyage.” Smiling, he urged her to partake some.

He was so sweet, especially the way his cheeks burned betraying his bashfulness, (contrasting) in defiance to his authoritative tone and forced composure.

Well disposed, she therefore put forth the best effort and partook some, so as not to give offense. When it was all over, the awkward moment’s silence came to an end when Teuquob pushing the tray aside, abruptly stood up. After a little twirl, she coyly asked, “Well, you’ve kept me in suspense long enough; will I pass?”  

Having had sisters, Chenko Haken broached the subject delicately.  After a brief fix up of the problem area, he took a step back and with a broad grin gave his approval. “Now you look the part my Lady! No danger of disclosure. From hence, I shall be most proud to introduce your Ladyship as my most handsome younger brother.” Fearing that his words had been tad too brazen, Chenko Haken’s cheeks flushed crimson, and he hastily lowered his eyes.

Most handsome younger brother! After mulling over the sentence and its connotations briefly, “Then it’s settled.” Teuquob’s abrupt, serious tone drew back his now questioning glance. He had given offence. ...  But she was smiling?

Her lips curved upwards in broader delight; with a beaming face, she shook her head. “Nevertheless, it would not do for such close relatives to stand on formalities.  We shall henceforth, elder brother, dispense with them.”  It was part assertion, part request and Chenko Haken took it with the good grace that it had been given (intended). 

Bowing at the waist after an elaborate sweep of the hand, he ejected. “Your wish is my command, my dear, mm, young brother.”

She pursed her lips as if in remonstrative displeasure and maintained her composure, till both burst into hardy laughter.

“How shall I address you from here on?  I mean, have you perhaps a preference to a specific name?”

She nodded, “How about Sunse…I’ve always been partial to that name.” The words tumbled from her mouth without hesitation.  Then, noting the slight darkening of his demeanor, Teuquob qualified her choice.  “It was the name of the hero in Blue Balustrades, my favorite tale.  If the name offends you, Elder Brother, you may choose for me another.”

“No.  No, you misunderstood me.”  Chenko Haken, forsaking jealousy, smiled in relief.  “Sunse is quite acceptable, rather appropriate, as the name conjures up in mind, the perfect image of a dashing young man, a hero of sorts.” He looked away thoughtfully; in fact, he knew of such a person. They were the best of friends till that is their irreparable contention. Not yet resigned to the grievous loss, to date it’d occasionally hunted his peace. His questioning eyes confronting her innocent face, he shook his head, dispersing all negativity and doubt. Then upon a varying thought he added:

“But I still feel awkward being called Elder Brother. I mean it’s improper, for I owe you, my allegiance.”

“I thought for the sake of good disguise we’d already agreed to forgo, to dispense with the cumbersome formalities.” stamping her foot impatiently, she insisted: “So, no more arguments!”

“You are quite right of course.” Chenko Haken lowered his head in polite submission.

“I know I spoke harshly just then, I mean, that’s not the way to behave with one’s elder brother, but all things considered, it is the best way, is it not?” she cajoled.  “Please don’t be too cross with me, elder brother.”

“How can I be?” he responded with a forgiving smile.

The delicious freshness of the morning air greeted them as they emerged from the rear gate.  The sun had yet to clear the rooftops and dew still clung stubbornly to the shaded spots under the eaves.  The cobble stones in the alleyway were turned into a silver mirror, its expanse unmarred by the inevitable carts of that tray’s peddlers and tradesmen.

“Please stay here with our luggage while I fetch us a carriage.”

“Are we going far?”

“No.  The harbor is only a few blocks down.”

“Then I prefer to walk.” she announced with determination as she confidently stepped into the alley.

“Hey, hold on!  You don’t even know the way.”  Quickly swooping up the bags Chenko Haken rushed after her, leaving the gate closed but unlocked behind him.  Teuquob was already beside the neighboring property when Chenko Haken, hastening after her with his poorly balanced load, slipped and fell squarely on his rear, legs akimbo.  His load scattered all about in a starburst of bags and cartons.

“Are you hurt?”  She rushed to his side with concern, “Its all-my-fault!  Please forgive me.  Please say you’re not hurt and that you’re all right!”  Tears glistened in her eyes.

Her anguish made her appear even more enchantingly beautiful but Chenko Haken was too embarrassed to take notice or appreciate the attention she was now lavishing on him.  His whole head was pounding with red-hot blood as he quickly scrambled to his feet. “It’s all right.” he mumbled, hastily dusting his clothes, “and there is nothing to forgive.”  Collecting the bags strewn about, he balanced the load then picked it up once more. “Let’s go.”

Once she knew Chenko Haken was none the worse for wear the comedic picture of just a few moments before sprang to her mind.  She turned her head away demurely to stifle the giggles beneath her sleeve.

Chenko, though annoyed, said nothing and put on a serious expression.  With firm steps he hastened down the hill to the sea. 

As he watched Teuquob out of the corner of his eye his heart once more softened. With the eternal innocence of a child, her eyes scanning, searching this way and that, she was absorbing, assimilating every nuance of things and beings that came into view or flooded the senses.  He was both enchanted and amused by her reactions and unguarded exuberance.  How positively wonderful and refreshing was her naivety, her nature uncommonly pristine and unspoiled; what a delicate a flower she was!

They could hear the bustle of the harbor long before it came into view.  Chenko, a most inquisitive and adventurous child, had practically grown up as a wharf rat; having seen it all one time or another, nothing further intrigued or piqued his curiosity. But observing Teuquob’s reaction and by vicariously now living through her experiences, he found that all the old sounds, once comfortable in their familiarity, had regained their novelty (originality) afresh. He therefore delighted in the undulating work-songs of the stevedores, the staccato hammering of the shipwrights, the bleating, braying, lowing and neighing of the bestiary of pack and produce and the whips and barking commands of their wranglers.  He also took notice, being reminded for the first time in many years, how, like a host of locusts a low incessant hum droned underneath the tumult, as the deals were being made or broken, goods weighed or exchanged, all manner of bartering, the ongoing goodwill or deceit - all in all resurrected in the multitude stores, segments or pits that lined the docks.  When they rounded the final corner onto the avenue that led down from the market, they were greeted by the full morning sun shimmering off the ocean before them, dancing on the waves in sprinkles of cerulean and orange.

Teuquob halted abruptly in her tracks as if she had just walked into a brick wall.  Chenko Haken could see the beginnings of a bewildered smile as she took in the scene of sea and sky, only to be overcome by surprise redolence, making her eyes squint and her nose wrinkle with unexpected displeasure.

Of course!  She was not used to the smells, the pungent odors and the likewise reek; as it were, she was inheriting the full bounty of the harbor’s ambiance, courtesy of brisk easterly winds pushing up the avenue like a parade. 

He chuckled, despite himself and teased. “You had better get used to this quickly, little brother.  It will not get any better when we’re on board the ship.”

“I expect so; however, I’ll adapt to that circumstance as well, as I’m most gratefully, been forewarned.” Her stoic resignation caused Chenko to relent, and he hastily asked to be pardoned for his insensitivity. She nodded, her gracious smile filling his heart anew with enthusiasm for the anticipated adventures ahead, as his feet in accordance, picked up the pace, with her in tow, towards their destination.

The sturdy merchant ship Silver Dreams had been tugging impatiently at her moorings for the past three days but this morning the ropes hung in graceful arcs as she rolled lazily like a beast after a heavy meal.  Her hold had been stuffed with the products of Kontu’s thriving textile industry: fine silks, brocades and lace packed into countless trunks and roll upon roll of tapestries and carpets stacked over and around them like so many logs.  Only one space was left empty; the tiny cabin that was to house the small group of merchants who had invested their fortunes in the items stowed below the decks.

Chenko Haken had encountered one of those merchants two days prior, a well-endowed, burly young man called Beko, attempting to resell a fine breed of yearling horses which he had (purchased) transported from Korion.  He was in a terrible bind as the would-be original purchaser had reneged from the transaction, having been jailed and awaiting execution on some other serious charge. Chancing on Chenko Haken, who in turn had introduced him to a competent trader that had often had dealings with his father and having gotten a more than a fair return; the grateful merchant had arranged for Chenko Haken and his younger brother to share a passage with them on the next leg of their journey which was to be the island of Luko.  He had introduced Chenko Haken to the ship’s Captain that very evening and there and then Chenko Haken had settled his part of the fare. 

As the expected addition (passengers), no sooner Chenko Haken and Teuquob walked up the gangplank, they’d been greeted with a curt nod by the purser and immediately taken below decks to be shown their assigned space in the cabin. 

A quick perusal revealed several hanging hammocks positioned off to one side; at the center stood a rugged table with years of buildup grease, encircled with some odd crates serving as a makeshift chair; then at the far corner beneath some hefty poles, in a space hastily cleared  two parceled woven straw mats, bedrolls of sorts presumably reserved for the newcomers,  thrown askew alongside a sturdy trunk  and a few other scant amenities, such as barrel containing water with a ladle, an oil lamp and so forth. 

This would be a terrible imposition on her! Chenko frowned, avoiding looking at her, for he could not bear to see the dismay that had to have been registered in those beautiful eyes. But under the circumstances this prudent arrangement was still the best that could be had, especially on such short notice and without arising suspicion. He was astonished however, when he, with a sideway glance looked at her and saw that she was smiling, apparently quite unperturbed by the inferior (humble,) substandard, even squalid conditions (abode, dwellings).

It’s all right really! We’ll make the most of this. Those gleaming eyes, now meeting his, seemed to be saying (conveying) encouragingly.

Chenko Haken, inwardly relieved, with a nod accepted the arrangements and then promptly dispensed a few bronze coins to the scowling, impatient deck hand.

“Tide turns on the quarter.” He squealed (announced) then briskly scampered up the ladder.

“Lots of time for a stroll on the deck,” Teuquob pulled at Chenko’s sleeve now with bursting excitement. “It’s bit stifling down here.”

Chenko Haken’s warning glance briskly suppressed any further outbursts as he led her eyes to the two early arrivals from the merchant group that was now descending the stairs armed with their private possessions. They simply nodded their perfunctory greetings and grumbling under their breath, went over to the far corner of the cabin to stake out their claim- the private quarters further limited now with the imposed addition of these two newcomers. 

“Sunse, need I remind you; this is not a pleasure trip; you must help me put our traveling gear into the trunk here before we venture anywhere.” Chenko’s austere, commanding (stern) tone drew her attention away from the two strangers that were now engaged in an ongoing conspiratorial argument.

His heart and mind laden with fear for her safety and many other such concerns, he’d spoken a tad too harshly; now relenting, he added amicably.  “Maybe we can go up later, after the ship has sailed.”

“Whatever you say, elder brother,” Teuquob complied with all the petulance of a dejected sibling.  She was soon distracted, but her mood remained unchanged, when the other eight members of the merchant group bustled into the cabin, already caught up in an animated discussion.  The sailors trailing them quickly set down their baggage next to the line of hammocks that would be the traders’ sleeping quarters for the duration of the voyage then left with empty pockets completely ignored by the party.  If they felt at all slighted, they had no time to wallow in it for the deck above immediately burst into a hive of activity.  Moorings were untied, sails unfurled and with a heave and one lingering creak the Silver Dreams left the slip to ply the inner harbor.

“Whew!” Chenko Haken could not help but breathe a sigh of relief once his back was to the others.  “Cheer up, little brother.” he said, reaching over to pat (gently tap) her over the shoulder.  “For better or worse we’re on our way.”

Teuquob’s eyes brightened anew as hope took hold and she looked wistfully towards the cabin door.

“All right,” Chenko consented with a smile. “When the activity on deck slows down, we’ll venture above for a bit of fresh sea air.  But we should wait until we pass the King’s sentry tower and clear the harbor at least.”  Teuquob caught on.  He did not wish to be seen, and recognized, by anyone on shore.  For the next little while she sat quietly in the corner discreetly observing the interactions of the fellow passengers and patiently awaiting her first glance at the open sea and all its imagined wonders.  

Chenko Haken had busied himself securing their luggage in the assigned trunk. As he looked over his shoulder to briefly check up on her, the pure radiance of her demure face, shining with all her hopes for the future, somewhat dispelled, if only for a moment, all Chenko’s worldly thoughts and cares.  Reminiscent of (like) the fresh breeze blowing down from the snowcapped mountains or off the vast ocean, her expression had instantly dissipated (dispelled, exiled) all pain and misgivings from his heart.

Just then however, out of the corner of his eye he spotted one of the merchants avidly looking in their direction- his attention too held by Teuquob, as if entranced.  The hairs prickled on the back of Chenko Haken’s neck, for the man’s gaze was dastardly- as he, with his dark countenance appeared to be a decided degenerate.

Though society highly frowned upon it, Chenko had heard of some disturbing, loathsome exploits and immoral acts still being carried on, vilely committed, during the long voyages at sea. 

“It should be quite safe by now.” He hastily concluded his task and ventured.  “Let’s start out on the bow and do some sightseeing.  But be sure to bundle up, the sea air is a degree cooler than it is on shore.”

Teuquob was more than willing to oblige as this proposal coincided with the yearnings in her heart; soon they were both ascending the stairs onto the top-deck.  Emerging outside, she’d gazed up at the bright blue sky tinged with wispy clouds, welcoming the refreshing breeze so delightfully caressing her cheeks.

 A moment or so later she stood mesmerized by the activity on deck. To Teuquob’s untrained eye the crew was doing a well-choreographed dance, to the staccato rhythms of the Mate’s commands.  Sailors passed by swiftly, driven by an unknown purpose, seemingly in no hurry, yet once a command was barked there was always someone at the post to carry it out.  It reminded her of the bustling kitchen before a big banquet, only Poekie was usually in the thick of things.

 The husky First Mate stood above the deck on a raised platform alongside the stern-faced Captain, issuing his dictates in a blaring voice as he gazed alternately ahead to sea then down at the hive of activity at their feet.  Beside him the burly helmsman energetically managed the wheel while the third in command stood at rapt attention, ready to dish out the next set of directives. 

Teuquob as if magnetized, had started towards the bridge advancing (Tequob was involuntarily propelled with) her steps in quick succession towards the Captain, only to bump into Chenko Haken who had suddenly appeared in front of her.

 “Let’s go astern, where we won’t be in anyone’s way.”  He saw the question in her eyes and added, “This way, towards the back of the boat.” 

She turned to follow him, and her eye immediately caught the familiar outline of her majestic former residence at the crest of the hill that lay behind the walled city.  Her mouth fell open in amazement.  “It all looks so miniscule!”

 Reality had suddenly struck her, that she was finally free; she was at the outside of that imposing structure, her former prison. Those impenetrable walls, the heavily guarded iron gates that had so effectively kept all life’s experiences from her, were now gradually diminishing in size as the distance between them grew.  A deep sigh escaped from her; yes, she’d attained what she’d yearned for all her life, but many of her friends and retinue were still incarcerated, interned in that dreadful place that regulated their every waking moment, their precarious fate always hanging by a thread, just inches away from certain death and persecution. Though she’d been deliberately kept in the dark, she’d still noted how within the last two years things had degenerated to a far worst state. “Hedenko”, that loathsome name, her intended, had to have been at the root of it all. Dreading the probable consequences for her absence, she said her prayers and fond farewells to each one she knew and loved, yet by the time they had reached the aft railing she was barely a quarter of the way through.  Suddenly her throat knotted, felt as though a chicken bone had been wedged in it and unsteady, she became aware of the heaviness of the air going into and out of her lungs.

She turned to Chenko Haken for help then noticed the moistness at the corners of his eyes. 

His mouth was silently forming the words, “Goodbye Auntie Shutizan.  Oh, I can’t even bear to think of the alternative….!” His face somewhat contorted with the terrible inner strain; he chewed on his lower lip. “I sincerely hope that despite your dire predicament, by some miracle you’ve escaped all consequence. My prayers, thoughts and affections shall be with you always.” 

Recollecting anew her trusted nurse’s kindness, her bravery and her supreme sacrifice Teuquob could not resist her swelling emotions; she let out a mew like a hurt kitten as the tears streamed onto her flushed cheeks.

                                                               ~                                                                             

 

(END OF SECTION 4)