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Showing posts with label list. Show all posts

Sunday 3 November 2024

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE TRIP TO THE MONASTERY - SECTION 2

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC

 THE TRIP TO THE MONASTERY

SECTION 2


 



 Anticipating tad spare time before their so-called admittance to the grounds, Stark, dawning a patient, placating smile, succinctly and in measured tone next imparted to Teuquob of the fierce struggle that had lasted for more than two hundred years of Wenjenkun’s history between some eighteen religious sects- with the resultant, subsequent fortifications. “Regrettably,” he then reiterated, “at the conclusion of this bloody, turbulent era, thirteen sects with their ritualistic practices, had ceased to exist and their places of worship, along with untold, ancient books bearing incalculable wisdom, rare works of art, had all been incinerated or razed to dust. “

The subsisting five, adopting cautionary measures, had consequently sought to gain the patronage of the reigning monarchs and their overlords. Having succeeded in this aim, these religious orders had for a time enjoyed exemptions from all levies, conscript labor, and further boon, became the recipient beneficiaries of abounding lush tariffs and precious offerings. Naturally, they had flourished in both power and opulence, with their resounding vast religious spheres of influence lasting for decades. When the last sovereign faced the danger of usurpation from Field Marshall Zuronghan and once more the entire country was cast into turmoil by the warfare (skirmishing) between loyalists and supporters of the Field Marshall, these five sects had remained in aloof obscurity, claiming vacillating, irresolute allegiances, pending of course on the outcome of latent battle- to the portended victor.  As a result, they had been spared but only just, from the wrath and the subsequent bloodletting that had ravaged the country from then eventual, victorious Zuronghan, in the wake of his irrevocable ascent to the throne. 




Kept under a watchful eye, the small number of temples belonging to these five sects, scattered throughout, in remote, high altitude, inaccessible settings, were allowed to persevere with their precarious existence. Heaven’s Gate Spiritual Temple being one such, only the most devout, well-endowed pilgrims undertook such a daunting task of the trek to here, during the short summer months, as this also happened to be the safest time. Gone were the days when mass amounts of pilgrims, despite the distance and grueling aspects of travel to such heights, still made the journey required for their soul’s eternal salvation. Then also in those bygone days, the steady streams of rich carriages, mounted gentry and ordinary folk on foot, beasts of burden laden with bribes, gifts, and offerings - all contended for space on these narrow stairways leading up to the Temple.

According to each pilgrim’s means- typically sometimes these important guests staying the entire two months - certain provisions would be made within the temple grounds for their suitable accommodation. Private apartments, set in enclosures within the high walls, affording them both privacy and comfort, each with countless rooms complete with kitchen and courtyard, during high season these would be thronged with incessant, beehive activity as most influential guests came equipped with their large entourage of wives, children, stewards, servants, and slaves.




These compounds stood vacant for the ten remaining months of the year; but during high season these and the rest of temple grounds came alive liken to the sleeping giant being awakened. Days were filled with the most elaborate set of ceremonies of worship, whether it is for the sake of the ancestors, or for specific deities, or for other sacrifices. The nights were reserved for modest vegetarian feasting sometimes lasting till dawn, in the wake of charged spiritual lectures, and grueling nocturnal sacred rituals that invigorated the appetite.

At appointed times during the week the Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn, aged 89 years and who, like his predecessors, laid claim to immortality, presided over the grandest of ceremonies. At this time, acting as host (emcee), His Eminence, through his silent prayers, directly communicated the requests of his guests to the appropriate God in charge.  For all this, privilege the guests paid handsomely.

Indeed, with those days long gone, some aspects remaining the same, the Temple welcomed the devout, affluent few during the summer months; whilst for the remainder, the inaccessible Sanctuary banned ingress to all supplicates. During such isolation, The Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn, Prior Sckeno, Precentor Steran, Sacrist Yun, Hosteller Ruwo, Almoner Qure, Celarer Wou, Infirmarian Wuno were proficient in their various tasks. In addition, they and the junior priests along with the novices devoted their time to highly regiment cleansing rituals, prayers and other such cultivation of their souls. Each had to partake in grueling martial exercises, to strengthen the body as well. For humility, no task being too minuscule, they took turns in overseeing certain necessary chores such as working in the kitchens, dormitory, granary, lavatory, infirmary, as grounds’ keeper, work on building repair and so forth. They would cultivate gardens medicinal or otherwise, copy ancient manuscripts, practice art and calligraphy, meditate, and do mental exercises to keep in top physical and mental form.

Notwithstanding, for the purposes of security, Stark had deliberately chosen this particular period, of early spring, to gain admittance to the temple grounds.

The guards at the outposts, positioned in accordance with the four directions of the earth, had already forwarded notice of their approach to the Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn. On His Holinesses’ explicit orders, no contradictory action had been taken to dissuade or impede their progress; nevertheless, as added precaution the party had still been detained at the gate house for a spell whilst pertinent things were sorted out.

Most intrigued, Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn, carefully observing the said object, to ascertain its validity, inwardly questioned, why would latter take such a risk, what indeed propelled him for this dangerous precedence? Then after some moments of thoughtful deliberation, shrugged, He would learn of the reasons soon enough.

His Holiness then gave his consent for their admittance and issued the orders to his subordinates accordingly. All inconvenienced, the monks hurried the novices to open apartments and make ready the necessary rooms to receive the guests.  Meanwhile Stark, Svein and Teuquob were directed to the waiting hall where, with great courtesy, they were shown to their seats and promptly served some fragrant, herbal tea. The horse had already been led away to the stables to be properly looked after there.

 No sooner had the guests finished their hot tea and the cups had been cleared away, then a priest calling himself Lucon, accompanied by subordinate monks, came forth to make official introductions and to extend prescribed greetings and felicitations.


LUKON


 It was then that prudent Stark, deciding on the spur of the moment, had introduced Teuquob and Svein as his offspring.

 Looking at them askew, Stark presently concluded, that the two were indeed most believable as siblings, so, none would question the validity of his claim.

 As the subordinate monks stood to the side, prudish Lucon acting in capacity as the spokesperson for the Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn, promptly relayed next his superior’s formal greetings, offered proper apologies and gave succinct reasons as to why his superior was presently indisposed to receiving them in person.  

Stark in keeping with this façade, with humble, yet grave demeanor, consistent with protocol- satisfied latter’s subsequent, circumspect inquiries, by offering his apologies in conjunction with his pseudo reasons for their inconvenient (ill-timed), yet compulsory intrusion.

Svein a quick study, had followed suit and played along his part admirably.

For even in this House of Gods, there might dwell unseen eyes and ears of a mole, a conduit for the sweeping tentacles of the reigning monarch that was known for his mistrustful nature.

Allegedly much in demand, Lucon, professing his apologies, had then regrettably entrusted his guests to a disciple Lu and took his leave.



Disciple Lu armed with a bound book and writing implements, first dipped his brush in ink and then promptly, with apt efficiency registered in shorthand script form, all the pertinent facts concerning their visit, their immediate and long-term requirements, the planned length of their stay and so forth. After thanking Stark and extending his assurance of speedy compliance with all the noted requirements, he also took his leave.

 Senior Monk named Fayet subsequently coming forth to introduce himself; he then announced that he was entrusted with the task of overseeing to all their personal requirements and needs during the length of their stay.

After their luggage was assiduously carried away by minion novices, portentous Fayet then ushered the honored guests to their hastily prepared quarters. On the way he apologized profusely for the lack of a welcoming committee, and later still, for the inaptness of their rooms, hinting, with brazen audacity, that more appropriate quarters could have been duly arranged had they only abided by the rules and came at the allocated time. Expressing astonishment cloaked in genuine concern, he then blabbed on endlessly about prior patrons that had sought the same but had been typically denied entry and in one or two such instances with the resultant, totally unwarranted reprisals/retaliation, which had been to their person.


SENIOR MONK FAYET


Lost in his own head, he continued mumbling to himself in audible form and venturing a guess that,  surely Stark’s manner of speech that had marked him as a man of great learning and of high position, and that his company also being seemingly significant personages- again deviating from norm of the prescribed rules of their order- they had been exempted from the forthright inquiry into their ability to meet the anticipated expenses.

Though annoyed, Stark kept his temper in check with this inconsistent monk, who with his persistent, not so subtle prying, sought to gain certain insights as to their person and endeavor.

After Stark, Svein and Teuquob were settled in their adjacent quarters they were left to refresh (clean up), have a change of clothing and take some well-earned rest.

The following day they received the expected invitation from the Prior to call on Abbot Boqast   Tizanzenn. Their visit to him, though brief, was still most informative and harmonious.


ABBOT BOQAST TIZANZENN

 Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn brilliant, quite discerning, and wise, was a most spontaneous, charming, unassuming and unconventional priest.  Despite his advanced age of over eighty (89), he was charged with energy and talked and moved with the vitality of a young man. His high office gave him no superior airs and he carried the humblest view of life.

 From the first, Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn had pretended and so treated Stark as though a new acquaintance, mere stranger; nevertheless, an influential person of means and a potential benefactor, decidedly one held in favor with the present Sovereign and so well deserving of deferential treatment.  This had been enough, though not entirely, to dissuade many resident monks, from unwarranted questions and interest.

 The next evening, according to protocol, the second invite had followed, requesting Stark, his son Svein and daughter Teuquob’s presence at a small ceremonial dinner in the secluded Jade and Gold Harmony Hall.  At this informal gathering the Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn, coming forward to greet Stark personally, had first inquired after the other’s health and comfort then escorted Stark to the place of honor, on the podium, to seat right next to him. 

Carefully selected small, combined group of covert loyalists, trustworthy associates and other such notable priests that were present, in response to this well calculated feat; expectantly, with their curiosity peaked, they strained their eyes and sharpened their wits, and so easily ingested, regurgitated, the ensued, so-called vital info pertaining to their guests. An accomplished mean, those suspect spies rested easy in mind, that Stark had to have been an influential personage in covert service of reigning monarch, and therefore, one not to be further prod, to be crossed, (to be trifled with,) or informed upon.



All through dinner, Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn, endowed with a special gift of the gab, chatted amicably, cryptically with Stark, with nonbeing the wiser; and both in turn was apprised of the most recent developments, in that assumed role of honored guest and host. 

Also deceived, Svein took delight in the animated ease with which two brilliant minds Stark and His Holiness, conversed, in contrast to Stark’s usual reserved air. The contagious sincerity of delightful smiles and harmonious chatter permeated throughout the night, as they partook in that simple, yet most enjoyable fare.

Subsequent morning Stark received the customary request to provide the list of names for which he wished prayers to be offered to, by His Holiness. Stark quickly overcoming the slight mishap, completed the unusual list on the offertory paper provided, in Svein’s presence, so that he too will be in the know. After placing the information in a sealed envelope which had been courteously provided to ensure the guests a certain measure of privacy, Stark then summoned Fayet and handed it over, to be delivered to the hand of the Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn himself.



All during, owing to his training, Svein had most admirably masked his surprise, conducting himself with certain decorum. The instant Fayet and the attendant novices had cleared the room, Stark turning his attention back on Svein, his face bearing the strangest of expressions and forcing a half smile to his lips, he then said, “I am disposed to answer any questions you may wish to pose regarding the list, Svein.”

This unexpected turn threw Svein into a quandary. True, it was his wish to learn who the third name on the list had been, “Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon” that of which his uncle had inadvertently, what it seemed to have been a moment’s lapsed judgment, had in encrypted form written it down, but then quickly, most meticulously taken the pains to permanently erase all traces of it, and supplanting it with “Furen  Bevrad ”.  First, he had ever seen of it, Svein had been rather perplexed by this presumably mystery relation or clansman bearing the surname Zhon?  More pressingly however, he wanted to know why had Stark, forgoing precaution, had written first on the list, albeit in encrypted form, the late Sovereigns name?

But, abandoning his curiosity of the first issue for the sake of the second and the disquiet it entailed, he replied, “Uncle, please forgive my audacity, but I must question the prudence…. umm, the first name on the list.….? Sir, I meant to say, how you can be ascertained of His Holiness’s….?”” Svein abruptly fell silent, noting Stark’s sudden stern expression, liken to gathering storm, as all color drained from latter’s face.

Now he’s s gone and done it; his uncle was furious with him! 

But, before Svein could explain, “Svein, by your words you have disgraced His Eminence and me.”  Stark’s icy retort resounded in the air. Then quickly curtailing his fury, he hissed: “I am aware of the far-reaching tentacles of that usurper, that villainous, self-proclaimed monarch who now sits falsely on the Celestial Throne...! How dare you be so impertinent as to question the soundness of my judgment?”


STARK


 Too choked up to continue, he abruptly rose and, with a sweep of his sleeves, left the room.

Svein was left in a most distraught state. Seated motionless in his chair, his head hung low, and his eyes stared blankly at the floor.  But his agony was not prolonged, as Stark, in an unexpected turn, re-entered the room in a more calmed state. Svein rushed to kneel before his uncle, offering his most humble apologies, “Forgive me, uncle, for speaking out of turn as I did just now!”

 “How do you suppose, in all the years of seeming isolation, I have been apprised of the most recent, pertinent developments? And where do you think most of your manuscripts that you have so diligently studied, were sourced from?” Stark drawing close whispered in Svein’s ear, same time offering a conciliatory hand, raised Svein to his feet. “Dear nephew, please do not burden yourself further with worry as it was only for a moment, that I had the lapse of judgment, before quickly rectifying it. But you are not entirely in the wrong; for as far as I can note, and His Eminence expressed the same, even in this remote segment, there have been some minor infractions, so called infiltration by the questionable, noted few. But as I understand it, they shall soon, along with their accomplices, be expunged.”

Once more seated, Stark thoughtfully stroked his beard and, after some time, added, “Meanwhile, we continue as before, only, despite all seeming appearances be more vigilant. Teuquob must be apprised of the developments also, especially, where that monk Fa, is concerned.”  Svein nodded his compliance; for Stark needed no further words to make clear his meaning.

But was it an oversight, Svein inwardly queried, why had Fa been assigned to such close quarters, to oversee their personal needs!

 “Sometimes it is better to keep those questionable beings in closer proximity, so as to steer them to the course of seemingly plausible misinformation.” Stark, anticipating this also, simply shrugged. “Regardless, Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn is a discerning man, I’m sure he has his reasons.”

“As for the other matter,” Stark then strove to explain, “I am most appreciative of the tact you have demonstrated, despite your curious nature, and the way you have admirably abstained, even now, from questioning me on the supplanted name. I can therefore give you this assurance, when the timing is right, in not-too-distant future, you shall be apprised of the facts, and that is to say, your quandary shall be resolved.” However, Stark falling silent, inwardly professed, I could not leave out the first cryptic name off the list that was non-negotiable!

 “Nevertheless, “he then added in measured tone. “bear in mind that so long as I live and breathe, I was once, and still am, His Late Highness Zuronghan  Therran Valamir’s vassal and, as a son bears absolute loyalty to his father, so must every subject to their Leigh.”

He lapsed into prolonged silence thinking, “By rights, when His Royal Highness ascended into the heavens, I should have followed him there to serve him in the afterlife. But, alas, I must endure this great shame and go on living in this world of shadows a little while longer, because I was entrusted with the responsibility of caring for you, the last of your father’s line and, since I had given my most powerful oath to your father long before this great injustice to my Sovereign, I was bound by honor to keep it. But, once my obligation is fulfilled, and I am free…” Looking away, he again inwardly reiterated. “Yes, only then, can I join my beloved Sovereign and be able to carry peace and contentment in my heart.”

 Emotionally charged, thinking of his forsaken son, his eyelids just then brimmed with tears. But a long time ago Stark had dispatched orders that no action should be taken and in so doing, inevitably condemned his own flesh and blood to a lifetime of misery. The up-to-date news from Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn had again rehashed old wounds. He had hoped and prayed that his son would be spared and his life extinguished long ago. But all this time he had been kept alive, just barely, in a dungeon. Years of torment had so maimed and disfigured   Bern Teodemer Lothair, that informant had been repulsed by the gruesome image (that greeted his eyes), the prisoner more an animal than a being.

Pitying him, he had had entertained the notion of defiance and somehow effect a mercy killing.  Still kept as a decoy to draw Stark or his supporters out, Bern Teodemer Lothair had been so well guarded however, that the informant reluctantly in the end had aborted the intent.

This (fact that so little can be done) had always weighed heavily on Stark’s conscience and now even in this place all he could offer was his silent prayers of solace and perhaps a quick end to his son’s life. But that would not be (happening, transpire); he knew the extent of Zakhertan Yozdek’s barbarism.

All this while, an unspeakable sorrow had also grazed Svein’s heart, as he with shame, presently bowed his head in thoughtful silence. The grave atmosphere of the room dense with raw emotions was suddenly startled, when Teuquob just then knocked at the door and asked permission to enter.

 Before Stark, now composed, voiced his consent, he turned to Svein and mumbled, “Teuquob need not know, the entirety of the list.” 

Svein nodded his head, in understanding. He wished to say more to his uncle, but words failed him. Stark gave a placating smile as he looked sympathetically into the young man’s eyes then, remembering Teuquob at the door, called out to her, his permission to enter.

                                                                                                ~

(Stay tuned, for there’ll be more unexpected and amusing developments unfolding in the next post  of “The Trip to the Monastery” – Section 3)