LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE WEDDING - SECTION 1

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC

THE WEDDING - SECTION 1

 

It was a beautiful summer’s morning, with light breeze swaying the brunches decked with lush green foliage, as fluffy clouds far above simply sailed on by. Nature’s perfume from countless blossoms filled the air as dancing butterflies spread their wings in choreographed dance here and there. Birds chirping in conjunction with the insects’ cacophony of music competed with the occasional roaring of the predatory beasts; the perfect orchestra completed the picture of an ideal summer’s day.

This flawless setting that set fairies hard at work, Stark, at the conclusion of their martial practice, first sounded out Svein on the idea of marriage to Teuquob.  After receiving Svein’s surprised and tongue-tied response, he then informed his nephew of his own agreeable disposition towards the proposal.  This sent Svein into a paroxysm of joy.

 Later still, when Teuquob was consulted about the idea by Stark and her blushing, favorable response was also obtained, the inevitability of their future nuptials was confirmed. That evening, before sleep, Stark had compiled in his mind, a meticulous list (of itinerary) for the upcoming event.

The very next day they set out to complete the first item on the agenda. Not sparing any effort or expense, they worked long and hard till Teuquob’s room, Svein’s old room was within weeks, duly transformed: enlarged and appropriately refurbished to suit the future newlywed’s needs.

In the intervening time, whenever a moment could be speared, Stark perused the sacred annals, historical chronicles and as well, taking into account cosmic calculations, doctrinal, present ceremonial rites and procedures- to eventually arrive at the most auspicious day. Promptly then, as per ritual, he registered it (inscribed it) on a specific, premier quality parchment and stored it away in his locked drawer.

Certain preliminaries done, subsequently, one fine morning at sunrise, the Deity of the mountain witnessed the gathering for the engagement ceremony- the first part of the nuptial ritual-officiated by Stark, at which point the prospective couple verbally committed their hearts and mind to each other. Forgoing regular day’s schedule, they then feasted that entire day and talked without abandon.

Countless plans were endorsed and laid down, amongst which was Svein’s immediate departure for the nearest town called Karene the subsequent morning, for the procurement of the necessary provisions for the initial ceremony: the offerings to ancestors and mountain God, appropriate congratulatory gifts for the bride, certain conventional treats and few atypical ingredients for the prescribed menu of the wedding feast and so on and so forth. 

The decision of Svein’s prompt departure was agreeably the most prudent course- for in accordance with the time-honored tradition, from that moment on until the night of the wedding the prospective groom had to reside elsewhere. The firm belief was held by all three; to do otherwise, to prematurely share the same roof (while sleeping) as that of the prospective bride, would affect certain misfortune and adversity on the likely couple. Svein thus was instructed by Stark, upon completion of the preparations for his journey and the celebratory dinner that, he would have to spend that night in the stable.

Now after the day’s exhaustive and exciting course of events, the future lengthy separation dominating their thoughts, the evening’s repast happened to be comparatively somber.

Svein seated across form Teuquob at the dinner table, kept his head low, as his eyes swept the floor. Teuquob was no better; she had hardly touched her food. Even Stark, despite his pretense, pondered on pressing concerns, which had been the case each time Svein undertook the journey to town.  Naturally, with all their minds so absorbed (engrossed), apart from the sparse, intermittent bouts of conversation, most of the meal was consumed in utter silence. 

After Svein and Teuquob had retired, Stark, on the pretext of seeing to something, stayed up to meticulously go over the (list) inventory of supplies to ensure himself that nothing significant or essential had been left out.  That put aside, still too restless to retire, he’d then lit his pipe and settled himself in his usual chair; under the trimmed lamplight his eyes then perused the contents of the ancient manuscript.

Try as he might however, his mind kept wondering on other more pertinent concerns, one of which was the reaffirmation of the reasons why Svein’s upcoming marriage had done little to change his earlier conviction- to delay telling of the secret to Svein till he reached the age of twenty-five. As for Teuquob’s true heritage (birthright), he had kept this from his nephew also, though he was not entirely sure of his motives for doing so.

The subsequent morning, after a restless night’s sleep rising at first daylight, Svein after breakfasting, bid his farewells to his uncle and Teuquob then, taking the horse by the reins, led him down the path, soon to be swallowed by the thick foliage. 

Teuquob, with a heavy heart and teary eyes, simply gazed (stared) after him till he’d vanished from view.  Stark anticipating her concerns and wishing to placate her, in an even tone first used some conciliatory words, summating it with positive assertion: “We should expect his safe return after three and one-half weeks.  Now it won’t do now, will it, for you to worry till then?” To this Teuquob nodded her acquiescence and turning, followed Stark back into the house.

                                                                                     ~

 For nearing half a day now, Svein and horse had negotiated the rough terrain, descending all the while as they followed invisible goat’s paths that led them further and further from home. At noon with the sun’s burning rays beating down on him, baking his skin, Svein felt particularly uncomfortable and rubbing his hand over the itchy chin, he scrunched up his face in disdain. It was bad enough he had endured the entire trip to the Temple and back under this disguise…. Of course, he had a longer beard than, which he had shaved off the minute he sat foot at home. He could not help but grin thinking of his (far thinking) uncle’s slight annoyance; though Stark had said nothing, his face had revealed that tinge of color at being clearly peeved. This had been Svein’s first inkling, first inference of Stark’s yet undisclosed plan.  For each time that Svein had undertaken these trips to town or other such, he had donned a beard and mustache, which made him look older, all for the purposes added security. 

 In truth Svein had always preferred to be clean shaven, and presently would have welcomed that cooling effects of the slight breeze which periodically caressed his cheeks. His face insulated with all that stubble (short beard, thin moustache), a necessary precaution, it did little else now, other than to annoy him. Svein ran his fingers over his stubble, thinking that by the time he reaches his designation, his beard and moustache should be more substantial and more incommodious (bothersome), though, enable him more effective disguise (camouflage).

Just endure this little inconvenience, he inwardly admonished self, for soon as this task is completed, I’ll be back to normal.  He was sure Teuquob would prefer him …. hmmm.  Svein pensively looked away as crimson hue had just then invaded his cheeks (he flushed); thankful that no one was about to witness this, he bit the corner of his lower lip, trying same time to drive away the vivid image from his mind, the image of him interlocking lips with his beloved. 

On this lengthy, lonely trek, to relieve boredom, Svein would always try resolving past disquiets (trepidations). Svein had become aware of his uncle’s presence bit too late on that particular night at the Temple, and not wishing a confrontation had acted oblivious, and quickly returned to his room. His Uncle had broached the subject and gently admonished him on the fact, few days ago; but Svein did not have the heart to disprove him and hence, contritely promised to be more sentient (alert) and astute (incisive) in future.

I am fortunate to have such a mentor! Stirring the ground ahead with his staff, Svein led his horse down the narrow, quite precipitous path.  He had opted for this shortcut to gain valuable time and perhaps surprise Stark and Teuquob with his early return.

 Presently his thoughts reverting to his future marriage (nuptial), Svein, with a slight grin, contemplated on the timing of Stark’s altered decision. He was certain Stark had been all along (against) contrary to such possibility; when had his uncle had the change of heart?  Was it at the Temple, had the Deity answered his request?

 Svein suddenly recalled to mind, that meaningful exchange between Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn and Stark at the purification ceremony after Svein’s lapsed guard (check, restraint) on his senses. Then there was that unscheduled, subsequent day’s private meeting with the Abbot, after which on his return, Stark had stolen, once or twice undecipherable, yet furtively pensive look at Svein and Teuquob.

The stallion just then as if reading Svein’s thoughts, neighed (whinnied, whickered) and stomped his foot, which made Svein grin even more broadly.

Svein knew that the next leg of the trek would be far worse, intensely grueling and more precarious, but he was primed for the challenge. Reaching this segment short time later, with all his senses on the alert, he had advanced warily on foot, thankful for the exceptional steed that he had, since this part of the arduous trail with its meandering, spiraling course was too rugged and unforgiving with sheer drops of thousands of feet, to negotiate alone, never mind his leading a spirited stallion through it all.  But when they (man and mount) finally, after an arduous stretch, emerged intact on the other end of the (fissure) ridge in the mountain, then after further descent (downward gradient), came to a more level clearing, Svein, with one swift leap, mounted the bridled steed and, holding the reins, impatiently galloped into the distance towards the direction of the certain (human habitation) town.

In his exalted spirits Svein, none the worse for wear, subsequently had pushed on relentlessly, day after day, needing only a brief rest or sleep.  If it were not for his consideration of his horse, he would have sped incessantly like the wind or like an arrow coursing through the air in one fell swoop, until he reached his destination.  As it was, they traveled as though they both had a pair of wings, with his magnificent horse sharing his exuberance and responding accordingly.

They halted only when the earth was mantled in absolute darkness that made any sort of advance difficult.  Only then Svein would dismount at a suitable spot, preferably by a stream with a sparsely populated forest nearby and let his steed loose to graze on the lush green vegetation.  Opting for a good, sturdy tree, he would lean his back against it and help himself to some dry rations, before closing his eyes in brief respite, under the blanket of stars.  Since dangers were paramount during the nocturnal period, Svein’s scant sleep would frequently be interrupted by his vigilant, unfettered stallion that always remained nearby.  When danger struck, more often than not, they would jointly, in one fell swoop, dispose of the offender.  At crack of dawn, unhampered by all the night’s disturbances, man and horse would refresh at the nearby stream, have some sustenance, then Svein once more mounted, they would speed away into distance.

Svein genuinely loved this stallion that he had so rightly named Fiery Comet.  From the very first he had felt most fortunate, indeed, to have come by such an acquisition.

This had happened on a day in the not-too-distant past.  Svein had journeyed to a faraway town, called Tanza, a place where horse trading occurred with frequency, after their last horse had met a tragic, premature end at the fangs of a fierce predatory animal during a stormy winter’s night.  This, by no means, had been his first trip there.  Despite his youth, Svein had undertaken the journey at least three other times, once with his uncle and twice alone, necessitated each time, after a horse had succumbed to some natural disaster.  The other transactions were not out of the ordinary; however, the fourth trip had been quite memorable, to say the least.

                                                                                  ~

 

Originally Fiery Comet had belonged to an official of considerable wealth and of good standing in society.  Yered, as he was called, prized his horses above all else and therefore spared no expense in procuring himself a sizable collection.  His stables contained several choice breeds, which he never failed to proudly show off to all his friends and associates, or whomever he wished to impress, at every opportunity.

 Yered had come by this horse while on an official call to his superior, and after difficult negotiations, had finally persuaded the owner to part with it for a considerable sum of money.  Now, despite his knowledge and his experienced eye for selecting superior breeds, this time he had been properly duped by this horse trader, masquerading as a nobleman, who, unbeknownst to Yered, was in cahoots with his superior.  Because of extenuating circumstances, Yered failed to ride his prize acquisition before he reached his home district.

YERED

Upon his return he was promptly warned by his secretary and good friend that horses bearing such markings were considered, since time immemorial, to be ill-omened; therefore, urged him to dispose of the horse at once if he wished to escape disaster.  Though Yered admonished his friend and subordinate for frightening him so, when still others chimed in with the same sentiments as his secretary, the horse’s value gradually diminished in Yered’s eyes.

 Even after receiving further confirmation from books, though his heart succumbed to fear, Yered still refused to acknowledge his mistake and remained reluctant to part with the horse.

Now, by some coincidence, when Yered suffered serious setbacks to his position and his wealth, by degrees, declined until he was stripped of power and influence, he ultimately gave validity to these superstitions and, therefore, sought eventually to rid himself of this cursed horse.  Compounding his grievance was the fact that he had never been able to ride the steed to his own satisfaction.

 The stallion possessed a wild and strong nature, and from the first try, he had shown his defiance to his master’s will, by repeatedly throwing him off of his back.  Though Yered prided himself on being a most accomplished rider, his persistent endeavors to ride this horse had all ended up in disastrous failure; with the resultant numerous injuries and bruises, to say nothing of the shame and humiliation, that he’d been forced to endure upon every attempt.

 By now the horse had gained some local notoriety as a most dangerous animal, and so it foiled Yered’s attempts to make a present of the steed to any of his furtively loathed, nemesis associates or despised relatives.  Having already spent a small fortune on the acquisition and upkeep (maintenance) of the horse, but fearing prosecution, he dared not discard the horse to any official, merchant (horse- dealer), neighbor, or prevail upon his servants to simply sell the horse to any unsuspecting, foolish gentry, within the perimeter of his home district.  Eventually he was compelled to commission one of his trusted underlings, to covertly make the transaction for him in another, far away district.

He soon discovered, to his great dismay and shame, that others were not as ignorant of the superstition as he had been, this fact meanwhile obliterating his agent’s bargaining strength and eliminating any chance for the sale.  He cursed himself endlessly in silence for his prior negligence, which now so ruthlessly and persistently robbed him of all his peace and repute.  He became wary and suspected his friends and close associates of mocking him behind his back.  The good-hearted conscientious ones advised him to rid himself of this pest at all costs and without further delay, seeing the drain (stress) on his nerves already.  But, since he had already squandered quite a sum on the beast, avaricious (rapacious) man that he was, he did not heed their advice and adamantly refused to simply slay (slaughter) the horse or let him loose in the wild.  He still hoped to recover some small margin of his expenses and, by doing so, preserve some semblance of dignity.

Time passed and, as his fortunes further declined, at last the exasperated Yered conceded to sell the now disguised horse at an even further away region and at greatly reduced sum- practically giving it away for free. Long at last the stallion was sold off to another unsuspecting, affluent purchaser; but before the congratulatory toast had warmed the new owner Rayex, he’d awakened to realization (same as Yered), that the horse he had procured was, in fact, no great bargain.  Once more hence, the horse was put up for sale by a dispirited owner.

KURIN

                                   

The burly steward called Kurin, carrying the instructions of his cruel and unfeeling master had been forbidden to return unless he secured the satisfactory sale of the horse.  Each day that the sale was delayed he was told to expect ten lashes plus other reprisals upon his return.  But the greatest threat had been made in reference to his sole kin on this Earth; his beloved daughter Yasmin, that would be turning eleven years of age in three months’ time. If he failed to return by then, his spiteful master promised to covertly sell her to some unknown brothel where she would be lost to him forever.

 Kurin knew this was no idle threat, for in his lifetime, since he had been in his master’s service from the age of two, he had seen unspeakable atrocities being committed by that fiend, that to date, he would shudder at the very thought of any such. The danger he’d faced on this trip minuscule in comparison to his daily ordeals in that estate. Meanwhile, the deep, ugly scar on his face and body was sufficient visual advertisement, that he was not one easily to be reckoned with.

 The resolute steward who excelled hand to hand combat and fighting with a staff, had spared no effort and, in a very short span of time, had journeyed great distances, going from town to town, until he had reached this furthest outlying district.  He had been led to believe that in this region, especially in this unruly town, there was a ready market for horses, therefore a good chance for the sale.  Callous officials, iniquitous merchants, nefarious artisans, seditious landlords all in cahoots with the vile bandits that thrived in great numbers in the surrounding countryside made travel by foot extremely hazardous; this, coupled with harsh climate, precarious topography and the distance between towns necessitated ownership of a horse or donkey for every household. In this never-ending cycle of violence, the unfortunate victims of these brigands or thugs, subsequently, without due were forced to make good their losses (time after time), if they wish the continuance of survival.

Last few weeks, having undergone his share of the dangerous escapades, the robust steward, on this day, at this far outpost marketplace of a Town Temagus, had done his best to sell the horse.  Arriving at dawn, he had stationed himself at a most favorable junction and had stayed there, keeping up hope the entire time, refusing to embrace yet another day’s defeat.  But the receding sun’s rays, the approaching hours of dusk, brazenly and cruelly confronted him and along with the diminishing light, his heart succumbed to sorrow and despair.  Raising his eyes to the distant sky, he inwardly asked; Why, why?

Kurin had done everything humanly possible, yet to date success avoided (shunned) him.  No sooner did any prospective buyer draw near or try to mount the horse for a trial run than he immediately was discouraged from making the purchase and, in fright, took to his heels.  Others were not as timid, walking away cursing with clenched fists and threatening reprisals at the top of their voices for the steward’s brazenness in trying to sell such a dangerous animal.  Word spread like wildfire throughout the marketplace, discouraging any other prospective buyers from giving the horse even the slightest bit of consideration.

 All day long, some ruffians from safe distance had intermittently voiced their taunting jeers, as local thugs echoed the same hateful words and threats at him.  Irate steward, wishing to escape the ramifications of his impending, volatile, violent nature, had instead, quietly moved his stand to a more isolated section. Looking askance at the bane of his troubles, he ground his teeth. 

 May Heaven preserve my poor darling daughter; this blasted horse will be the end of us all! If it were up to me, I would chop him up, perhaps make mincemeat out of him, then sell it all to those that would revel in horse meat. Meat is meat…. Few more days, I may do just that…Kurin nodded his head determinedly; knowing few more hours and another day would be spent; trying therefore, in his desperation to convince himself of this likely recourse.

Hey, it should bring a bit of money, enough perhaps to satisfy my master. Any fib should do; anything credible sounding enough. His anger turned to sudden dismay as his thoughts once more reverted to his daughter Yasmin.  Oh, my poor, poor baby, wonder what you are doing now?

YASMIN

 As it were, his daughter’s welfare being paramount on his mind; he gave scant thought to the impending cruel whipping he’d receive on his return, regardless, just for the heck of it, more than hundred merciless lashes that would incapacitate him for weeks if not months.

Hope you are keeping safe, my poor, precious darling!  Once more raising his eyes to the boundless sky, he uttered a silent prayer for her well-being… Then almost instantly, he shook his head in defiant thought: God’s were blind to the likes of them!

Soon as I’m back, a certain determination ceased him then. Yes, he and his daughter will make good their escape this time, and live the rest of their lives, if need be, in hiding but determinedly safe, safer than being subjected to the impending, unpredictable whims of his brutal, vicious master. If that monster harbored such a thought, an idle threat this time may be, of selling her to the brothel…. A beauty she is growing up to be, the swine may find other fabricated reasons to carry out his vile plan!

From the moment she’d been born, such a dreadful fear had lived in the steward’s heart, and he could not stand by and allow his worst fears, this worst nightmare, to be realized. Such an ill fate must not befall his innocent daughter Yasmin.

As dusk fell, gradually, many of the buyers and sellers began to trickle away, clearing the market, leaving behind the desperate, dispirited souls and empty stalls, only a dim reminder of the day’s noisy bustle.  Occasionally a gusting wind rose up and rolled tumbleweed in a trail of dust down the almost isolated dirt road.  The sky, once a pristine blue, now dressed up in its finery, carrying brilliant hues of purple, orange and red attempting to impress the few idle pedestrians on the way home to fill rumbling bellies.  It was at this point when the sharp eyes of the steward suddenly caught an unsuspecting, impressionable youth’s interested look from afar.

 

(END OF SECTION 1)

                                               

                                                                                         ~

 

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC

THE FISHERMAN’S PRIZE

(SECTION 8)

Overlooking his father’s antics, Yoansu with a renewed zeal resumed his narrative- by now being most anxious also, in reaching the end.  

“The next two days in happy anticipation I waited for Mr. Wugan to pay me back, or rather to fail to pay me back, the sum he’d borrowed.  I had already quit my job and moved to a more comfortable lodging. Now having won enough money, in a week or two I planned to start my own business, a lucrative, competitive teahouse that would be frequented by all. Once the money came pouring in, I planned to begin preparations for the journey home.”

He’s such a scoundrel! Kaimu inwardly scoffed. Things should be that easy.

“You mean you have an established business there… you haven’t come home to stay for good?” Ensa morosely interrupted her son.

“I shall stay a while mom. And I promise I’ll frequent you both more often from now on. But I can make a much better living in town. Besides, this way I can also provide for you both all the comforts (extra amenities) of life that up until now you’ve been denied.”

“I meant no offense dad.” Yoansu had quickly added that last part in a placating tone, to allay (pacify, stem) Kaimu’s rising fury.

“We don’t care about material wealth son.” Ensa’s eyes in gratitude had nevertheless, glistened (brimmed) with tears. “I’d rather not miss you so much!”

“Don’t worry mom.” Yoansu added quickly. “My wife and your future grandson shall stay with you both to help you along with your chores. This is a better environment for them. And it will give me cause for frequent visits. Later still, to lessen the inconvenience, I shall engage workman to construct few more additions to this place.” Yoansu promised magnanimously.

 “Now, having gotten ahead of myself, let me see…. I’ll have to retrace some steps in the story.” Yoansu smiled sheepishly at his father.

“Story, hmm, a rather an apt choice of word!” Kaimu mumbled to himself as he grimaced back. Fortunately, no one had paid any heed to his wry skepticism.

 “Well anyhow, I’d left word at my old lodgings as to where I could be reached in case Mr. Yuksul Wugan called.  When it was well past the promised time, and he had not shown up, I decided to call on him instead.  I had asked the whereabouts of his home at the time I had loaned him the money.  Gaining some directions, I found the place without much difficulty.  The house was quite large and stately. Chief Stuart ushered me in. I threaded timidly with my rough sandals over the plush carpet that lined the floors. His wife greeted me at the reception room with a rather cold demeanor.

 Now the interior of the room was most handsomely decorated and it told of finer days when they must have lived in lap of luxury with countless servants running about on errands.  Presently all I could see was but a few servants. After the customary fragrant tea, I was led into an interior studio, where I saw the master of the house, Mr. Yuksul Wugan, resting on a large, canopied sofa.  I found him to be quite sickly in appearance, as though he had aged still more over time.  There was a strained relationship between him and his wife; she obviously did not approve of my being there.  When he had lost badly that night, returning home broken-hearted, he’d confessed to his wife his wager with me.   I later learned that they had argued the whole length of the night and most of the following day over this concern.  She threatened to leave him for good and, by taking his daughter with her, planned to go live with her parents.  How dare he be so heartless as to sell his daughter, for this was exactly what he had done?  She would desert him and let him stew in his own juice for this grievous wrongdoing. By no means was the wagered daughter their only offspring.  They had three others married off to lofty citizens, living in other parts of the country.  This shame would mar them also… A real loss of face this would bring to them all!”

The old Wugan had never done anything like this before.  That night he had lost his head, certain of his good fortune as augured (prophesied) by a soothsayer (seer), that he had made the bet.  Now feeling ever so foolish, he’d been stricken with remorse, especially since he had failed to raise the funds through other means.  A man of his stature, with a certain reputation to uphold, felt obliged to keeping his end of the bargain.  Hence, he’d begged his wife's forgiveness and understanding; swore never to gamble again, then with deep regret asked her to prepare their daughter, on the sure anticipation of my call. Meanwhile the shame and all that emotional turmoil taking its toll on him, he’d fallen ill. When his daughter was told of part of the truth and her imminent departure, she’d wailed bitterly and tried to kill herself. Fortunately, her mother had prevented her from doing so.”

Yoansu oozed in confidence. He knew that the elaborate narrative, with endless intriguing details would eliminate any doubt or wayward questions from their minds.

Expectantly, as the night wore on, with so much information crammed into their brains, the honest, simple folks appeared completely and utterly duped.

At least she comes from a good home. Ensa reflected.  Our grandson is bound to be someone worthy, as long as he does not take after his maternal grandfather.

No wonder she looked down on us.  A highborn girl like that will remain discontented and hard to please.  I’m afraid she will never fit in.

“Now father,” Yoansu continued, “If it were not for the considerable sum that I had loaned him, I would have forgotten about the debt.  Still, moved by sympathy to his affliction, I offered to give him an extension in time, saying he could pay me back at a future date, but he would not hear of it, and did not allow any extension.  Though, as he spoke, he did throw a cautionary look over his shoulder to assure himself his wife had not returned prematurely with the daughter to overhear what was being discussed.”  As if being reminded, Yoansu too, rose from his seat and quietly peeped into their room to reassure himself that his wife had slept through it all.  When he returned, he caught the last bit of his father's words to Ensa, “What a spineless old man, being afraid of a wife!  I suppose men go soft in the towns.”

“Not so loud,” Yoansu hurriedly cautioned him.  Pointing to the room he said, “She might wake up and overhear.”

“Have you gone soft too?” Kaimu sternly admonished his son.  “So, what if she hears me?”  Then looking away mused. “Or do you fear her exposing you!”

Yoansu, in an effort to silence Kaimu, quickly resumed his story, “As I was saying, he did not allow me to spare him from his obligation.  Now, father, I am not a heartless man, and I prepared myself to offer still more insistence on forgetting that part of the deal and deferring payment of cash till later date. But just at that moment her mother had brought her in, and I saw that she was indeed a rare beauty.  She at once captured my heart and stole all contrary words from my mouth.”

At this point Yoansu had paused for a spell as he’d lowered his head in thoughtful air. “Anyway, after seeing her I’d aborted any notion (thought) of calling off the deal.  I could not bring myself to spurn this chance which had come my way.  Still, to rest in good conscience, being brought up so decently by you both, I made the proposal of doing the right thing by her.  This granted, I then formally asked permission from the father to be united with her in lawful matrimony.  Proposing that the loaned sum be considered instead as her dowry; in so doing, I saved them face.  Mr. Yuksul Wugan was so pleased that he readily assented.”

“A shrewd move,” Kaimu interjected, “he had you save his family's honor and still kept his money.”

“But father, I was the fortunate one,” Yoansu countered, “for how else I could have secured myself such a beautiful wife from an affluent and well-respected family?”

“Respectable families do not gamble away their daughters!” Kaimu brusquely responded. 

Yoansu, for the sake of preserving peace, curtailed his disparaging remarks.

The silence was broken by Ensa’s timely intercession. “You did the right thing, my son.  Imagine, so far from home and you still behaved so admirably.  I am very proud of you.”  She had brought him up right. He had moral integrity.  She took a great chunk of that credit and wore it on her breastplate like a medal.

Kaimu glared at his incurably deluded idealistic wife.

Yoansu could not make sense of his father’s indifference. “I had to do the proper thing for them.” He therefore reasserted. “And yes, in case you’re wondering, I had more than enough funds to cover the wedding formalities and travel expenses.”

In an unbroken silence Ensa nodded her approval.  Kaimu looked away, burrowing his angry gaze on the mounted religious plague.

“On that happiest day of my life, they’d staged a generous feast for the ‘Wedding

 Ceremony’ and invited well over thousand guests.” Meanwhile Yoansu had continued. “It was a magnificent affair (social event), one that far exceeded my dreams. I only wished you two could have been there.”

How did they find the means; where did they procure all that money for such an elaborate extravaganza? Kaimu inwardly chewed on the words. Bah! Loopholes, there’s too many loopholes in your story! At this point Kaimu’s mind straying: he pondered on the question of her respectability. Who was she really? What’s with the charade?

 “After the ceremony when we formally became husband and wife, I continued to stay with them until she was fit for the journey.” Yoansu continued, oblivious to Kaimu's inner resentment.

Fit, as in pregnant?   Kaimu scoffed under his breath.

“Some of the finer gifts: the silk embroidered cloth, the jeweled hairpin, one of the wines, as well as the sweets are all gifts from the respected ‘in-laws’.  They were very generous to me during my stay with them and never made me feel out of sorts.  Overlooking my crude manners and coarse habits they made me feel as though I belonged to their class (station in life).  I confess, Tufan's mother was still a bit stand-offish towards me,” Yoansu's voice became softer here, “but Mr, Wugan was most understanding and kind. I’d stayed there you see, for Tufan’s sake.” He then quickly added.

At this point Kaimu’s mounting skepticism had turned into sheer rage, and had it not been for Ensa’s timely intercession, directing their attention to the lateness of the hour, Kaimu would have definitely blown his top. 

Kaimu was incensed, having had heard enough prevarication for one night.  Nodding his assent, he rose to go, but Yoansu had no intention of going to sleep and insisted that he was not tired in the least.  He tugged at his father's sleeve to stop him from leaving and said, “Father, let mother go to bed, but let us spend a little more time together.   I've just come home after a long absence and we still have so much ground to cover, we can always sleep later.”  Hurriedly he then poured still more wine into Kaimu's cup and offered it respectfully with both hands in an attempt to coerce him to stay.  He was counting on the fact that Kaimu had the gift of gab when with male companions, whereas he remained closemouthed with females.

He wants something! Now disposed to the idea of staying, Kaimu ordered his wife to stop pestering him and go to bed by herself, adding that he wished to converse with his son in private for a while longer, without a constant harassment (interruption) from a meddling old woman. 

And so, against her better judgment, Ensa was forced to retire.  Yet despite her fatigue she lay awake in bed, waiting for her husband to join her.

Yoansu had an ulterior motive in detaining his father and keeping him from sleep this night. With Ensa out of the way now, Yoansu felt freer to speak his mind. The whole secrecy about Jiense had aroused his curiosity; herbal pouch cast aside, after renewed bouts of drinking and pleasant exchanges of facts, Yoansu artfully then steered the conversation to the point of interest.

“Now, father,” he began with his amiable tone. “I have told you my story in detail; won't you tell me yours?  I am most anxious to learn more about her.”  Pointing at (cocking his head in the direction of) the space behind the straw curtain, he asked in repetition, without a pause. “How did she come by? How is it that all through the night she’s not uttered a single word? She seems dumbfounded when we speak yet anyone can see she is intelligent enough to comprehend mother’s sign language.  Is she partially handicapped?” For what purpose has she been kept? Then again, she is attractive enough and appears most docile…”

Get your mind out of the gutter! Kaimu wanted to bark at his son but lowered his head instead and said coldly, “Your wife must be anxious for you to join her. Why stay away?

 “She is probably fast asleep,” Yoansu protested. “But I will not be, not unless you resolve this mystery.  Please father let me in on the secret!”

 Let me string you along for a change and see how you like it. After his prolonged silence, pretending insobriety (intoxication) and a soft spot for his son, he supposedly reluctantly gave his consent.  “Very well, then...But first let us have some more wine, I feel parched this very night.” 

Kaimu had also wished to test his son’s stamina.

 

(THE FISHERMAN'S PRIZE WILL CONTINUE IN THE NEXT POST - SECTON  9)