LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – THE ASSASSINS- SECTION 17

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE ASSASSASINS - SECTION 17

 

01- HENG ERLING

Brandishing his sword as he stood in ready stance, Alec bellowed, “I am Heng Erling, the only surviving son of Marshal Gustav Erling and I have waited all my life for this day of vengeance!”

“I should have known you were (false) duplicitous right through” Nevetsecnuac fumed.

“A leopard doesn’t change its spots!”

 “Call it what you will, “Heng Erling laughed. “Brace yourself, for you shall be the first to perish at my hand, and that cursed Lord Asger isn’t going anywhere, either.  He forsook his own flesh and blood son Ivar Marrog Zhon, in place of you and, while you grew up in relative safety and comfort in that mountain cabin, his son from infancy has been languishing in a dark, foul dungeon beneath the Capital, never knowing a day without torture.”

“Hah, you think him a noble Lord, but in all these years, he never strove or mustered able men to rescue his own flesh and blood; instead, he cowered like a spineless fiend, biding his time and nourishing dreams of glorious return on your coattails, in that mountain retreat?”

“I’ve heard enough out of you. How dare you malign uncle, a noble Lord with your false, delusions; is there no end to your treachery?”  Nevetsecnuac brandishing his sword, raced towards him with the ferocity of a tiger.

All during the ensued fight Nevetsecnuac tried desperately to repute Heng Erling’s shocking revelations (disclosed facts) about Lord Asger’s forsaken son; unbidden however, certain facts too swiftly rushed to mind validating some of it, such as the seemingly benign incident in the “Heaven’s Gate Spiritual Temple”. Nevetsecnuac recalled all too vividly, Asger’s (Stark’s) accidental inclusion of the name “Ivar Marrog Zhon” in the list, before his quickly erasing it. And recently still, when at the stables Alec, rather Heng, had made the mention of Asger’s son, Nevetsecnuac recalled, how he was curtly stopped. Nevetsecnuac’s conscience thus troubled him as he fought two wars within and without; therefore, for a time Nevetsecnuac’s prowess had been hampered while he fended off Heng’s repetitive, fierce offensives.

Heng with his physiological warfare, thus, once or twice had almost got the upper hand and very nearly vanquished Nevetsecnuac. On one instance, Nevetsecnuac back flipped to escape the brunt of the blade that instead, cut a razor slice across his chest.  Rebounding quickly however, for Nevetsecnuac’s admiration and love for his uncle, Lord Asger was infinite; he had again picked up the momentum and very nearly bested Heng.

Equally resilient Heng withstood these offensives with his remarkable strength, skill and agility; meanwhile, encouraged by the prior result, again he strove to further disarm Nevetsecnuac.

“Some say Ivar Marrog Zhon has been kept alive, barely, as a ruse to draw the traitor from his secretive lair, but our Sovereign could not have known the heartlessness of this Lord,”

Heng spat the word Asger, as he continued with his deadly strikes.

“Some hero; he ran away in the heat of the battle, while his castle, his lands were being besieged, forsook his obligation to his father’s bloodline, for the likes of you? Answer me this, does Lord Asger hold aspirations of grandeur, thinking of the day of your being reinstated to power?  Fool, as if that would ever happen!”

“You know nothing of the truth.” Nevetsecnuac could not help but bellowed back, even though grasping Heng’s sly strategy, he had already resolved to maintain inner composure while concentrating an all-out effort at defeating this very dangerous, and cunning   adversary.

  “As for your beautiful wife, when I’m done with you both, she'll make a fine present for His Royal Highness Zakhertan Yozdek to defile and torture.  Eunuch Egil Viggoaries can (devour) chew on the bones of your twins afterwards!"  Undeterred, Heng threw his head back in a monstrous laugh.

Despite his doggedness, Nevetsecnuac felt as though ice water had been poured all over his steaming body.  At the same time inexplicable sorrow had seeped into his heart as he, a recent dad, grasped the full implications of Lord Asger’s supreme sacrifice.

Fiery contempt for Heng flamed in Nevetsecnuac’s chest and filled his spleen with rage.  Grinding his teeth, he reviled Heng, and at lightning   speed he again powerfully struck the other.  They clashed, weapons thrusting, flailing against each other.  During this deadly exchange (skirmish) Nevetsecnuac suddenly realized that Heng had concealed his true abilities at all prior confrontations; in fact, his fighting skills were most formidable, far more formidable than Duan’s.  With the added advantages of incorporating Nevetsecnuac's fighting style alongside his, he had now become a most fierce (challenging) adversary, a virtually invincible opponent.

 Lord Asger would be disappointed in me and appalled, all with good reason. Nevetsecnuac bowed his head in shame. How could I, with all my years of training, allow myself to be so completely duped? Fueled by this added indignation and ire, with his unleashed innate (inherent) survival instincts Nevetsecnuac was instantaneously transformed into an intrepid, more indomitable warrior. 

Presently, with such ardent, livid antagonists, the earth shook (trembled) from the ferocity of their combat. Limbs of trees fractured or splintered, surrounding foliage and the like were all pulverized or destroyed, rocks, boulders were smashed to bits, split apart or uprooted, as the intense conflict ceaselessly continued.

 Lasting all night, after countless rounds of pitched battle, still neither of them could gain the upper hand.  Each time Nevetsecnuac lunged at Heng his thrust was nimbly parried and each blow of Heng's was warded off with little room to spare. 

Finally, Heng made an ill-timed thrust at Nevetsecnuac's heart and Nevetsecnuac, with incredible dexterity, spun around it and, twisting his opponent's sword hand, forced Heng to tumble to the ground, dropping his weapon.  Heng rolled then somersaulted to avoid the assault that followed, at the same time retrieving (grabbing) his weapon and landing back on his feet to immediately hack back at Nevetsecnuac.  Again, each attack was parried, each blow warded off, till the force and lightening   rapidity of the strikes barely managed, took its toll on Heng and at one point having lost his grip, his sword flew off his hand aching across the sky to land, rather, be buried in the midst of the nearby lake.

 Heng stood, defenseless, glaring at Nevetsecnuac.

"Ask for mercy", Nevetsecnuac shouted, "and I'll spare your life."

"I'll see you in hell, first!"  Heng swore and darted towards his horse. 

"Stop your running   and fight, you cowardly fiend!" Nevetsecnuac had raced after Heng.

Heng’s stallion spooked by this sudden charge however, had bolted and neighing wildly, nearly trampled Heng under his hooves. But not before had Heng retrieved something he’d needed from the secret compartment of the saddle.

As Heng fell back he quickly tugged the items under his waist wrap; he grumbled a curse on his breath while his eyes briefly trailed his horse galloping into the distance.

Heng swerved (veered) and looked askance at the other but knew better than to try approaching Fiery Comet; resigned to his fate, perfectly composed, he then turned to face Nevetsecnuac.

Now all this had transpired in the blinking of an eye.

 

"Cowardly?  Who's the coward here? I dare you to fight without your precious sword!" Heng at this point, defiantly hollered back.

As it was, Nevetsecnuac's code of honor constrained him from striking an unarmed man.  "That suits me fine.” he tossed the sword aside and rushed to engage Heng in hand-to-hand combat.

They fought seemingly endlessly, with such force, such adroitness, the like of which was unseen in any mortal man.  Again, the surrounding area became the casualty of this intense battle. Perfectly matched, the hand-to-hand combat would have lasted forever and ever, but Heng was fast nearing his patience, and sought to bring a quick resolution to this obvious impasse.

And so, after his deadly strike, in an unexpected maneuver, Heng turned tail and fled, as he ran, he withdrew handful of tiny razor-sharp metal spikes with poisoned tips, from beneath his waist wrap, then while still running   he half turned and hurled them with lightning   speed at Nevetsecnuac.

 With incredible agility, Nevetsecnuac dodged the deadly spikes’ course, and the metal spikes continued, flew by and buried their heads in the same ancient tree that his sword had once sliced.

 “Blast!!”  Heng cursed under his breath, as he same time, taking advantage of Nevetsecnuac's momentary distraction, in lightning speed, retrieved the other concealed poisoned stiletto from his high leather boot.

First, he allowed Nevetsecnuac to catch up then, whirling, Heng swiftly (longlined it) thrust the blade into Nevetsecnuac’s chest, having held no qualms at all about killing an unarmed foe.

Failing in this, for Nevetsecnuac’s quick action hurled it from his hand and buried it into the midst of thick, thorny bush, Heng somersaulted, shot through the air and dove right into the frigid waters of the lake. He was gone from view only for a spell, emerging shortly after brandishing the blade in his hand; he landed squarely in front of Nevetsecnuac who was rushing to retrieve his discarded sword.  Unarmed Nevetsecnuac with sure proficiency fended of the deadly assault then swiftly arriving at the spot where he had discarded his sword earlier, he nimbly kicked it to waist height with his toe, grabbed it without breaking stride and turned to parry Heng's murderous slash.

Again, they fought for another twenty to thirty rounds but this time, despite his prowess, Heng, chilled to the bone, began to falter.  In contrast, Nevetsecnuac maintained his speed and agility and wielded his weapon with such consummate skill that, in the end, he cut a three-inch-deep swath under Heng's ribs.

Heng froze in mid-parry then collapsed to the ground in a swelling pool of crimson.  Blood and curses spat from Heng's lips, each breath making him writhe in agony as he muttered bitter recriminations against his own impatience, arrogance and folly in underestimating Nevetsecnuac's competence.

"If only I had waited for the reinforcements and been content letting the axman take your head.  I've failed miserably.  My life's ambition has been frustrated."  Hot tears mixed with the blood on Heng's cheeks.

"My doomed father, forgive me.  I've condemned you to an eternity of torment, wearing the chains of ignominy, in the underworld!  My beloved ill-fated mother, Lingrace, forgive me, oh how I have failed you both!”

 Heng swallowed hard, thinking the rest.

Oh mother, you forsook your virtue and bore such shame during all those years you suffered the lustful, lecherous pawing of Zakhertan Yozdek.  You debased yourself as attendant at his wife's feet, just so I could live and avenge my father's death. Please mother, don’t curse me forever; find it in your heart to forgive, to absolve me of my failings for I’ve done my best, always have; unfortunately, the fiendish foes are backed by powerful demons. With Heaven forsaking the good, I was doomed to fail.

08-Lady Lingrace -Heng's image of hIS mother

This was the only version Heng had desperately clanged to, always believing in his heart of hearts that his supposed angelic, saintly mother had been forced into that compromising situation, in order that her son's life was spared and also that the scant hope was kept alive, the prospect and the sole aspiration of avenging her husband’s untimely, ignominious death! 

Ensuing years of her coercion Zakhertan  Yozdek had been, by degrees, spared from any and all blame; instead, intense hatred and animosity had been fueled and then deferred to that vilified Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon and Prince Nevetsecnuac.

 In blind faith Heng envisioned his mother, to his dying breath, as a self-sacrificing, tragic, victimized and molested heroine, rather than the deceitful, conniving and ambitious woman that she was. 

How could Heng face the ugly truth and keep intact his sanity?  How could his tormented mind surmise, the underlying, contemptible sole reason, that he had been spared for the horrific, sickeningly gruesome demises of his elder siblings, all because his mother had, long before the usurpation, covertly had intimate liaison with Zakhertan  Yozdek. And that suspicion, the question of Heng's paternity, was what had excluded him from the executioner’s block (gallows) or fate worse than death.

 How could Heng have guessed at the root of deceit that ran so deep in his mother that, on this day, when he was sacrificing his own life not to avenge his father's death, but rather to further her underhanded, selfish desire to ingratiate herself back into Zakhertan's good graces.  And that was the sole reason she had hired covertly this assassin Duan and constrained him to take her son Heng along for the ride.

 

In the meantime, despite the treachery, contempt and duplicity all that had passed between them, Nevetsecnuac, had felt certain compassion for this dying man, curled up in excruciating pain on the ground. And so, he leaned over to ask, “Can I do anything to ease your pain?"

"You can rot in hell; whelp!"  Heng's face contorted in pain at the effort it took to curse.

"I suppose there is no rebellion either,” Nevetsecnuac grumbled as he looked away, understanding the full scope of his deception.

"Haa, ha, haak!," blood welling up in Heng's throat cut short his sarcastic laugh.

 He spat it out at Nevetsecnuac and gritted his teeth in contempt. 

“That’s right, fool.  There are no rebels, no battles. The Generals lead an army of the dead.  Ha, ha, ugghh!" 

Pain again cut short his laughter as he uttered his last words with regret, “Pity that I should be the one to die, not you.  Heaven is not just."

Nevetsecnuac looked away to hide his surging emotions because he had been dealt with a crushing blow.  The lack of rebellion was not the cause of his turmoil, his deep dismay; however, rather, it was the knowledge of Lord Asger’s forsaken son.  So much had happened during these last few months. With those entire facts in a streamline racing through his mind, he plumped his seat down listlessly beside the lifeless body of Heng.

A great deal of reality had altered. He was not the person he thought he was, neither was his uncle. He’d grown up with, albeit necessary deception. As the past life in quick succession once more flashed before his mind’s eye, it resolved all that mystery he’d grown up with; so much more made sense now.

In one fell swoop many of his life’s queries had been answered.  But worst of it was the knowledge, how his beloved uncle, Lord Asger had sacrificed and endured such hardships and pain all on his behalf.

He shuddered at the thought of another innocent being, sacrificed and forsaken, worst still, imprisoned at infancy, forced to endure such torment, all because of him.

Lord Asger Marrog Zhon had sent Nevetsecnuac on, albeit with some reserve, hoping against hope that there would be some truth to Heng’s claims.  Looking at his bloodied sword, Nevetsecnuac recollected the entirety of his oath to self and Lord Asger; so, he sat, eyes cast on the ground, staring aimlessly in silent, pained concentration. 

He’d sworn the oath not to return without exacting vengeance, on behalf of all those living or perished souls. Heng’s treachery aside, Nevetsecnuac could not dismiss the fact that, Lord Asger’s son to date languished in some dark dreary dungeon.

 With lowered head, Nevetsecnuac ground his teeth and clenched his fist as he seethed.

  If he were to return, Asger would never let him go on this perilous rescue mission.

Teuquob and his bellowed children, their dependence on him could sway his determination. But how could he last another day, knowingly perpetuating this unethical, immoral feat (act)?  Lord Asger had sacrificed so much… Least he could do, is try, try to rectify this grave injustice and reunite him with his flesh and blood son!

Suddenly he knew the action he must take to make all these wrongs right. He could only estimate the scope of difficulty, the unforeseen challenges of his chosen (decided) course, but same time he knew it was the only honorable thing to do.

Springing to his feet, he threw both arms into the air and let out an earth-shaking roar

“Heaven bear witness to my new vow (pledge), whatever the cost; I shall exact vengeance on the Usurper Zakhertan Yozdek for all the wrongdoings he’s committed and, reunite Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon with his son Ivar Marrog Zhon.”

Nevetsecnuac afterwards (next) with meticulous care buried Heng Erling’s corpse under some rocks, poured libation (offering the entirety of wine which Heng had kept in animal skin vessel/container, and used it sparingly, since the time he’d accompanied Duan) over his grave and said some prayers for his soul.       

 At that moment in time, the first light of day broke; Nevetsecnuac’s eyes beheld a phantasm dragon suddenly manifest in the crimson sky, which it then quickly sailed on by amidst red clouds, till it dissipated.  

Nevetsecnuac thoughtfully nodded, then unable to stand still a moment longer he, vaulting into Fiery Comet's saddle, galloped the steed in the direction of the morning sun.

( THE END OF SECTION 17 – THE CONCLUSION OF THE ASSASSIONS))  

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE ASSASSINS - SECTION 14

      After quenching his thirst with a cup of tea, Asger, resumed in somber tone, his recounting    of the past, historical events:

“As the invincible army commanded by  Grand Marshal Gustav Erling poised (encamped, waited) at the border, the newly arrived military Tribune,  crossed into our territory, and gaining an audience with my Lord father, read aloud the degree from the usurper Zakhertan Yozdek, a complete amnesty for my father, allowing him to retain his title, lands and forces as long as he declared fealty to the new regime and relinquished custody of the Prince and all the other royal members, including my mother and me, to them.  Word had already reached us by then, that the rest of the country had, without exception, been subjugated under Zakhertan  Yozdek's rule and that we, alone, stood in resistance.

“Father (Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon), spitting on the ground before the envoy, reviled the usurper Emperor Zakhertan  Yozdek to his face and, shaking his armored fist in the air, vowed to fight to the bitter end.  Behind him our army cheered loudly, and I could see the Tribune shiver in his boots.”

"Our subsequent struggle lasted half a year as the opposing sides clashed in several savage battles.  Greatly outnumbered, our forces were unfortunately at some point dislodged from Nanku Pass in an assault that also lost Gustav Erling three divisions; after a month, we were driven back to within the confines of the city walls.  There, at Chenko, we continued to fight unrelentingly, only too conscious of our restrictive circumstances.  Food and ordinance, to say nothing of manpower, were being dangerously depleted.  Then Grand Marshall Gustav Erling, having received reinforcements from the Capital, divided his army and laid a vigorous onslaught (offensive, blitz) on the city (Chenko) from all sides.”

Prince Shon

"During this final confrontation Prince Shon was mortally wounded by a sniper's poisoned arrow fired from the enemy ranks.  Later that afternoon, knowing that the end was near and that the situation was hopeless, His Highness called me to his side.  There I knelt beside his deathbed as the prince, his breathing violent and parched, asked me to take his only son, Nevetsecnuac, to safety so that he and I may one day return and avenge the deaths of the Royal family.  'We are beyond salvation', His Highness sobbed, 'but let hope flourish elsewhere so that the crimes of Zakhertan  Yozdek against our family and nation will not go unpunished!'  My heart aflame, I swore that day to make this vengeance happen.”

"That night I bid my farewells to my beloved family and, with sixty able bodied, loyal guards and you, Prince Nevetsecnuac, in my arms, went through the secret tunnel to the camp outside the walls.  Securing additional mounts from the adversary, we vaulted into the saddles and fought our way out of the encirclement to safety.  Each of us was hand-picked to be a match for a hundred of the enemy and they were powerless to stop us.  Our war bellows (cries, roars) rent-open the sky and struck terror into their hearts.”

“Five days after our escape, Chenko fell, and the defenders were slaughtered to a man.  The city was brutally destroyed, and the fires raged for two months until all was looted, burned or razed to dust.”

Except for one, my infant son Ivar Marrog Zhon, Stark fell silent, as stab of pain constricted his heart and soul anew, grieving silently as always, for his son’s ensuing fate.  It would have been better had he died, but no, Zakhertan  Yozdek’s barbarism, his ruthlessness knows no bounds.  None is safe from his malice, his spiteful vindictiveness, certainly not an innocent child. But this too, Asger kept to himself.  Then after inhaling a few puffs from his pipe, he continued (resumed) in an even tone, pushing aside this unbidden, unwelcome ache from his mind and heart.

"Grand Marshall Gustav Erling, leaving a major part of the army under the command of his able subordinate, Lir Yussaf, with instructions to effect the final obliteration of the Zhon family stronghold, marched southwards with eight regiments to join up with our pursuers.  After fighting several pitched battles with them, we succeeded in crossing the border.  By then our numbers had been reduced to thirty-eight, while the enemy, despite the heavy casualties we had inflicted on them, still numbered in the thousands.  The massive size of their force lost them the maneuverability they needed to pursue us through the narrow, treacherous mountain shortcuts.  Since there existed several such trails, some converging while others came to a dead end, and we’d laid false tracks on many to confuse the enemy, we were able to ambush and overcome with ease all the scouts sent to trail us.” 

“A subsequent two-day brilliant tactical feat won us a decisive victory over a key obstacle, a strategic pass guarded by none other than the notorious Garrison Commander Mulnar.  Armed now with fresh mounts and much needed supplies we proceeded (advanced) in due haste towards the Jerken River, a natural barrier that marked the border of the next province.  Unfortunately, the massive bridge which provided safe passage over the dangerous rapids at this juncture lay in ruins. Our circumstance was now dire (ominous), for in a few days’ time Gustav Erling's forces would be upon us, meanwhile, we were stranded without any means of crossing to the other side.  Even if we felled trees and worked diligently through the night to construct a raft, we still lacked the skill needed to master the fast-flowing waters and treacherous rocks of this high-country river.  The closest crossing to us lay near a major provincial town where we could expect staunch opposition. As we vacillated, considering our options, three seemingly harmless fishermen emerged from the rushes and offered to ferry us across.  When they learned just who we were, however, they abandoned their sinister plan of robbing us in mid-stream and, with full cooperation, delivered both our small force and the horses across the river to safety just as Gustav Erling reached the opposite bank, a full two days ahead of where we had expected him to be.  Fearless of Gustav Erling's repercussions, these braves, brigand fishermen remained in sight of his forces, taunting them from the opposite bank.  With earth-shaking fury Grand Marshall Gustav Erling cursed and beat his officers, rushing them to make repairs to the bridge.”

03-GRAND MARSHAL GUSTAV ERLING

"For the next five days our path skirted several hills, eventually leading us to higher, more precipitous ground where, taking refuge on a densely forested hilltop, we pitched camp and posted sentries.  The night sky was engulfed by heavy, burdened clouds that mantled the earth in darkness.  The blazing campfires below, however, allowed us to pinpoint the size and the position of our enemy, or so we thought.  During the night, while keeping more campfires lit than necessary, Gustav Erling, at the head of thirty-five crack contingents, had secretly rode off towards Kensu Pass to enlist the aid of that outpost's commander.”

"The following day's downpour, which started at dawn and lasted all day, hindered our advance but, unaware that we were galloping straight into the heart of danger, we relentlessly pushed on ahead, riding ceaselessly all day and resting only for a few hours at night.  We were aiming to widen the gap between us and our pursuers and reach Kensu Pass first.”

“When, finally, we neared it at dusk, I gave orders for the torches to be lit.  Ironically, after observing the surrounding topography, I had just finished commenting how, with only a few good men, this place could be set up as a prime ambush for Gustav Erling's army when, suddenly, the thunder of war drums filled the air around us and the sky was ignited into one gigantic sunburst by countless fire arrows showering down on our heads.  Hastily, I ordered the retreat, but it was already too late.  A battalion of infantry poured down from the slopes ahead and another group rushed up the gully from our right to block the way.  Rather than dividing our meager forces at this vulnerable spot, I ordered a charge to our left, where we could gain some high ground and mount a more effective resistance. “

“Just then however, another troop of cavalry charged forward from behind the knoll and blocked this avenue as well.  A mass of dancing torches in the south revealed the arrival of Gustav Erling's main force, eliminating any hope of withdrawal.  Completely hemmed in, our situation most grave, we stood our ground to fight.  Our forward line clashed, amid wild shouts, with theirs in a savage, bitter battle.  Our men ploughed fearlessly into the enemy ranks, wielding their weapons with lethal effect, they began to carve a way out through a wall of living men. Corpses piled high around us, littering the ground along which the blood flowed in rivers.  Yet, after an all-night pitched battle, we could still not break their thick encirclement.”

"Then at dawn, another downpour drenched us to the skin; the curtain (wall) of water was so dense that it obscured all vision.  Taking advantage of this, my remaining   men grouped around me in a protective phalanx and fought with magnificent valor to tear throughout the enemy's ranks.  Sowing confusion and bloody mayhem, they provided me and my two officers the means to get away, and then they closed ranks behind us to fight on, as if we were still with them."

Asger paused to puff on his pipe his urgent tears held back, as his heart in a knot (constricted), simply ached. Fighting images of his men's faces, shouting bravely as they died, pained his soul, casting his thoughts into a dark, bloody abyss. 

Nevetsecnuac, with vivid, haunting pictures of war parading before his mind's eye, shared with Asger the feelings of exhilaration and pain.  The urge for battle had fired up the warrior's blood now coursing through his veins and the fierce, bone-chilling cries of the battlefield filled his ears.

"Yes, only the four of us: you Nevetsecnuac, I, Zeru and Uffen were able to escape that pass.", Asger's voice startled Nevetsecnuac from his trance.  "Tracking along that bloody path, we pushed on up the mountain slope in that blinding, driving rain.  A voice shouted behind us, 'On pain of death, do not let Lord Asger escape!', and a volley of arrows assailed us from the rear.  Suddenly another unit of cavalry cut in from our side to block our way.  Zeru and Uffen wheeled their mounts in either direction as they urged me to get away.  With deep sadness in my heart, for I was constrained by my promise to the late Prince Shon, I checked my urge to remain with these brave men and fight to the bitter end.  Though my senses shouted out of impending danger, the possibility of yet another ambush up ahead, I had little choice but to ride in the only direction that remained open to me.”

“As I rounded the outcrop, a final contingent, led by Marshal Gustav Erling himself, surged out of hiding to obstruct my way.”

“‘And where do you think you're going?’ Marshall Gustav Erling mocked.  ‘Surrender the child at once and I may be lenient.  If not, prepare to die a horrible death!’ he snarled at me.  I roared back in defiance, cursing him and his ancestors to rot in Hell then dared him to face me alone in a single combat.  I remember the monstrous laugh he responded with, and his words, 'Look how the lamb dares to fight the lion!  Death is staring you in the face, and you don't even know it!'  Charging towards me on his steed in a blind fury, he ordered his men to stay put.  They stayed behind dutifully, fidgeting on their mounts, aching to follow him in for the kill.”

"I barely had time to secure you to my back and spur my mount before our weapons clashed.  We fought at least thirty rounds, with neither of us able to best the other.  His fame was well earned, for he was truly a most competent foe, unequaled in martial skill.  This, coupled with his superb cunning   in tactical warfare made him virtually invincible.  Despite all my best efforts, I could barely keep him at bay.  In truth, I felt myself beginning   to falter, but my concern over the infant Prince, you, fueled my resolve and would not allow me to fail.  Perhaps it was out of respect for my own skill that Marshall Gustav Erling then began to sway me with words towards surrendering.  At the climax of the fighting, I feigned weakness.  Expecting me to yield or beg for mercy, Gustav Erling relaxed his vigil for a second.  Instead, I wheeled my horse around and charged at full gallop through the cordon of men around us at their weakest point.”

"To this day I don't know whether or not this was purposefully done by Gustav Erling, for the trail I was forced to ride led nowhere.  At one point I was forced by the narrowness of the path to abandon my horse and ascend on foot to the summit, you in my arms, followed by a snaking trail of foes, headed by Grand Marshall Gustav Erling, his double swords flashing like fangs in the serpent's mouth.  This was the final trap he had set for me, on this high mountain at the corner of three provinces.  Arrows whistled past me from behind.  By grace of Heaven and darkness I escaped their aim with but a slightly grazed shoulder and cheek.”

"Fighting still, and dodging arrows, when I reached the summit, it was dawn once more and the provinces below were bathed in light.  During the continuous close combat with Marshall, when one such arrow, missing me, found its mark in Marshall Gustav Erling’s left arm, from then on at least, the elite marksmen did not dare discharge any more arrows, and abandoned entirely any subsequent notion of using poisoned ones. There I combated Gustav Erling until I lost my arm.  Unable to fight and hold on to the child, I was caught in a bind.  It was there and then that I resolved to hurl both myself and you over the sheer cliff rather than let you be taken alive.  With you still clutched to my chest, after countless minutes of airborne flight with arrows whizzing by after us, we landed in the frigid waters of the river and were finally able to get away."

"How fortunate that you escaped that calamity,” Nevetsecnuac exclaimed in amazement.

"Fortune had nothing to do with it!  It was due to the sacrifice of those sixty valiant men and later still, Lord Shonne Gulbrand's invaluable aid that we were able to get away to safety.”

“If not for all that", Asger shook his head, "I shudder to think of the fate that would have befallen you, my Prince."

“Do you know what became of the Marshall?” Nevetsecnuac asked.

Asger simply nodded. Long after the rescue, mindful of Zakhertan  Yozdek's intolerance of failure, Asger had made an atypical inquiry from his trusted contacts regarding the final disposition of Marshall Gustav  Erling.

“Over the years I came to know of a certain, unconfirmed report, and again I emphasize the fact that it may only be hearsay at best.” Asger stressed, before continuing, “That Gustav Erling returned to the capital bearing the heads of Prince Shon and my father Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon along with their families, and reported as well, his failure to capture Prince Nevetsecnuac and myself. Despite this partial victory, he was nevertheless accused of incompetence and both he and his family were sentenced (condemned) to death. Then again,” Asger pondered out loud. “I doubt this account was entirely true, for it had been long rumored that the beautiful wife of Marshal Gustav Erling, Lady Lingrace, had an unusual attraction for Zakhertan  Yozdek and the two had supposedly an illicit...  Ah, but that's another matter."

Asger abruptly ended it, with a cold bemused smile.

 

Just then the cock's crow announced the arrival of the new day. As Teuquob woke up also at sunrise, she was asked to forgo the chores for the time being and be seated. She was then introduced to her husband in his identity as Prince Nevetsecnuac Therran Valamir and similarly was asked to succinctly divulge her long kept secret about her own Royal heritage and the true facts that precipitated her escape from the Palace and then Kontu. Then, over hot a breakfast, Teuquob was enlightened in a summary of the previous night's exchange, the relevant historical events of Wenjenkun and the key circumstances that had (led) forced Asger and Nevetsecnuac to this mountain sanctuary.

 

(END OF SECTION 14)

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE RESCUE - SECTION 8

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC 

THE RESCUE - SECTION 8

Shutizan had never spoken with such vehement, passionate conviction before, though Teuquob had long ago had perceived, seen through the at times stern, restrained, rather reserved, deceptive exterior of her nanny and believed her to be a soft, caring person with gentle disposition, one who actually loved her charge as if she was her very own.

“I am now totally committed to the truth.  I made up my mind last night to give you a reason and a means to escape this terrible predicament.  Please child, do not hate me for keeping silent for so long; no, no, do not interrupt either, let me speak, before I lose my nerve.”

Then, straying in her thoughts, she interjected, “Oh, your mother was such a beautiful woman both inside and outside, as you, yourself, are growing up to be.  In fact, you are the very image of her, hence the reason for your father’s, His Majesty’s contempt.”

“Men’s vanity!” she spat on the floor, “Heaven may spare us from...” but then, getting a grip on herself, she smiled sheepishly and continued in a more even tone.  “Your mother’s name was Lueling.  She was the Fifth Princess of the Kingdom of Jenor, a peaceful, beautiful state about one-third the size of Kontu.

 It had the misfortune; however, of resting along the borders of our kingdom and possessing access to strategically important shipping ports… and for that reason, as so many others had, perished!  Of course, the existence of Jenor, by royal diktat (edict, decree), was entirely omitted from your studies, the reasons for it now, you may well comprehend.”

Then, Shutizan spoke of a turbulent time in history when the great armies under Lord Hedenko had waged incessant wars on all the neighboring countries, gaining Murong Di the territories he’d craved.  She succinctly narrated the key events and how some later campaigns, including the one against Jenor, were more directly overseen by His Majesty, who wished at the time to escape the tedious tranquility of his court.

“But what do I know of war strategies or politics...?” She smiled sheepishly then shook her head as if in self-admonition. “How I continue! Well anyhow, after the successful campaign against Jenor, His Majesty Murong Di entered the capital city leading the victorious armies and perched himself on your maternal grandfather’s conquered throne.  Then, as I have been told, he had the entire Royal family and anyone else of consequence brought before his presence, and, in front of your mother, who was made to bear witness, had them humiliated, debased then one by one slowly dismembered, sliced, eviscerated or other such, cruelly annihilated.  He had the same thirst for barbarism you see, not much different from Hedenko, he was.

King Murong Di

“Only your poor mother Princess Lueling, was made the sole exception and so her life was spared.  Why, you ask? Because your father, our present sovereign, also had an eye for beauty, and your mother was the fairest maiden he had ever seen or possessed.  As for the other palace belles who were also spared, well, they were taken away to be abased and ravaged by the subordinates or profitably sold  to brothels or  into slavery.  What use did he have for them, when he had laid claim to the most enviable prize? The ensuing week, the soldiers, on orders from His Majesty, went on a rampage of murder, destruction and wanton mayhem, reducing a once-beautiful city to cinders, before the army’s final withdrawal.”

 

“Now child, what I’m about to tell you may cause you still greater distress.” Shutizan warned as she determinedly gazed at Teuquob’, “But I must be candid with you on all accounts.  You must be made aware of your father’s inherent cruelty.

“Imagine, if you can, how your poor, dear mother must have felt being made to watch her entire beloved family after unspeakable torment, being ruthlessly butchered, one by one, in front of her.  Yes, and when she lost consciousness, she was revived and unmercifully forced to witness still more atrocities. It was a sort of game for him you see, toying with the victims’ minds, first trampling on their integrity and their honor, then in the end, with their soul in shatters and when all speck of humanity was stripped away, to have them brutally subjugated and cut down. For simple decapitation or butchery, without the tantalizing debased spirit, would not suffice. Imagine if you can the depth of agony she must have endured.  The state she must have been reduced to after all that!  Now, I ask you, what need was there of such vile acts?”  She shook her head indignantly, “What had been the point of it all... The unequivocal display of his might? To mount further satisfaction as he drove her to the brink of insanity, meanwhile, sapping all resistance of her will…?” Shutizan absorbed herself in considering this for a moment then, turning her gaze back on Teuquob, heaved a deep sigh.  Teuquob’s head was lowered, and she was quietly shedding tears.  Biting her lip to constrain her own emotions, Shutizan continued, “At the time of her capture, Princess Lueling had been betrothed to a most handsome and virtuous aristocrat scholar, what was his name?  I should remember, for it was on her lips daily...Shao...that’s right, he was called Shao.  This most handsome young man, as I understood it, was a sensitive, most gentle soul who possessed great literary genius but, unfortunately, lacked martial skills.  As the youngest son of the Prime Minister of Jenor, and a distant cousin to Princess Lueling, your mother and he had been playmates since childhood, and, as they grew into young adulthood this childhood attraction and their innocent, carefree exchange had naturally blossomed into different kind of love.

Lueling and Shao

Subsequently, the said young adults were no longer permitted to freely see each and certain restrictions for the proper decorum now had to be adhered to; however, overriding these complexities, they’d still maintained written correspondence and with it the deepest affection for each other.  Once, taking a grave chance, they had even rendezvoused secretly by the garden’s lotus pond to profess their devotion and eternal love for each other.  Within the palace walls, however, few secrets could be kept. When the princess’s father, a kindly, perceptive King, considering info, announced (pronounced in Court) his desired wish for their ‘future union in matrimony’, the two could not have been happier.

 But, alas, just a month before the Royal wedding ceremony was to take place, their country was plunged into war with Kontu, and only a brief time later their capital was besieged by Hedenko’s invading army.

“Now at the time of your mother’s capture this fact about her prior engagement was also disclosed to His Majesty Murong Di; your father had Shao therefore captured alive and had him brought before his presence.  Then, as ordered, Hedenko had Shao’s chest cruelly ripped open while the unfortunate was still alive.  Plucking the beating heart right out of the body, Hedenko (then just a field-marshal) presented it to Our Sovereign, in full view of your mother.”  At this point Shutizan cringed noticeably and her body gave an involuntary shudder.  Teuquob was too horrified to utter a sound and remained mortified, though curious, to hear the rest.

After taking a deep breath, the old nurse pushed on, “Your father looked at the bloody organ with scorn, and then remarked, “Ha, it’s but an ordinary heart!  Cast it to the dogs!”  Those were his exact words, I swear, as your mother told me.  I’m telling you all this, distasteful as it is, only because your mother once asked me to.  The night of her unfortunate demise, in fact, she made me swear an oath to only reveal this truth to you when the need arose, and not until then.  She had hoped you would be spared Murong Di’s wrath, but I think, deep down, she knew otherwise.  Now being such a time, I am bound by my oath to your mother, overriding His Majesty’s, to reveal all.  Yes, I have long since detested His Majesty, my liege, for his despicable acts.  It took me weeks to wipe away those horrible images from my mind, but I had to mask my indignation for your sake.”

Warily she looked at the door, and then moaned, “Your poor mother!  Already spent both emotionally and physically, this added atrocity proved too much for her to bear and so once more she’d collapsed, quite unconscious to the floor.  This time, however, despite their attempts, they failed to revive her.  The Imperial Physician diagnosed her state as, “Barely alive and in state of near comatose shock,” and then urged our Sovereign to have her taken to a quieter place where she could be properly tended to.  Begrudgingly, he must have agreed to it, for Princess Lueling regained consciousness several days later in his bed.

“Forgive me if this may sound cruel, but it may, perhaps, have been better had she never recovered.  For that night and nights after that Murong Di had his way with her and repeatedly violated her near senseless, limp body.  She later pleaded again and again with him to allow her to die, but he would grant her no such wish.  On the contrary, he took every precautionary measure and had her under constant surveillance to prevent any suicide attempts.”

Teuquob could not bear to hear anymore.  Her hands cupped over her face, she collapsed on the bed and sobbed uncontrollably.  Alarmed, the nurse rushed to console her, urging her to be strong.  Drying the girl’s eyes, Shutizan urged Teuquob to help her finish what she had started.

“It’s as hard for me to tell you this, as it is for you to hear.” She reasoned, “So, child, you must be stronger.  Old as I am, I’m tired already.  Now, you don’t want me worrying about your health on top of everything else too, do you?”  Teuquob pulled herself together and nodded her head.  “That’s my girl.”  The old nurse affectionately hugged her.  Then she told of how Princess Lueling was kept more like a prisoner in a high tower, under scrutiny in order to prevent her from killing herself.

“Favoring Princess Lueling, the most, your father visited her frequently.”  Scorn entered her voice, “Because your mother was the only one who had rejected his advances, remaining the only one he could not conquer, he became like a man possessed. All his other wives lost favor and his mounting infatuation, rather lust, drove him to the brink of madness. He incessantly fixated day and night on seizing (attaining) Princess Lueling’s true affections.  Despite all his efforts, however, he could never win her love; never make her forget her murdered fiancée!

“Since everything is according to the will of Heaven, not of man, you were meant to be conceived.  Pregnancy brought a definite change in your mother, and gave His Majesty renewed hope.  Thinking that, at last, he had won her over he relaxed the watch on her and looked forward to a time when he could resume his pleasures with her.

“Men!” Shutizan spat on the floor in disgust, “whether king or pauper, they are all cast from the same mold.  I’m glad I was never tainted by their filth.  I’m glad I was spared such contemptible...”  Checking her tongue, Shutizan smiled wryly and coughed.  “How I stray.  You don’t suppose I’m going senile already, do you?” she questioned the air as she walked around the room.  Then, sitting herself down once more; she resumed her say (continued), however, in a sadder tone.

“Don’t take what I say to heart dearest; not all men are the same, some are noble and good.... My hope is that you will meet one such person in future and fall in love and have the happiness that had been so cruelly denied to your poor mother….  Now, where was I?... “She closed her eyes to pick up the train of thought she’d veered from.  “Because your mother was against taking an innocent life and felt an obligation to the fetus (child) in her womb, she had resolved herself to endure her torment (to carry-it to full-term at least) until after you were born.  As for that contemptible father of yours, he looked forward to the day of your birth as well, not because he wanted or valued a child but...” Shutizan shook her head and murmured: “He craved your mother more than his kingdom, more than all the power he held.”  Once more she paused to catch her breath.  All this emotion had worn her out.

“It was after you were born,”, she finally, looked up to say, “at the time when you were no more than two weeks old, when your beautiful mother, on one peaceful fall afternoon, so tragically ended her life by throwing herself from the window of the high tower.  Ayy...”  The terrible picture just being evoked in Shutizan’s mind made her unable to continue.

 She rose hastily and walked away to stare out the window.  Tears flowed down her cheeks in defiance of her best efforts to stifle them.  “How I carry on.  I’m but an old fool, an old weakling.”  She bit her upper lip and angrily stamped her foot to constrain her emotions.  Then, quickly wiping away all evidence of tears, she sat herself down as before by bedside and added indignantly,

 “The King, your father, was outraged.  Far from admiring your mother for her virtue, he scorned her as a contemptible woman, deeming her act as most despicable and, most of all, unfair to him.

King Murong Di

 First, he claimed, she had enslaved his emotions, then cast them aside as thought they were worthless dirt.  How dare she uphold the memory of a dead man over him, forsaking and rejecting all his boundless devotion and love? 

His disappointment soon unhinged his tumultuous rage, and he acted with unheard of ferocity.  Many suffered at his hand! Blood flowed like rivers as thousands, mostly civilians, lost their lives most brutally!

“Cruel, such cruel acts many more months, ensued this mad savagery!” Shutizan shaking her head bit the corner of her lip.

“Meanwhile, on his decree your poor mother had been unceremoniously buried in an unmarked, pauper’s grave, no prayers, no sacrifices, nothing! She’d been hence forever denied the peace she’d deserved in the afterlife.  Ahh...”, again Shutizan sighed. 

“Such was her tragic end, and your mother’s cruel, most cruel fate.  To this day no ne, save for the Sovereign, knows where your mother is buried.”   

“Riled by this injustice, long ago I did make some discreet inquiries, but these yielded no result.  Your poor, dear mother!  Then, as if that was not enough, with the same stone heart he had you, a two-week-old baby, disowned, put under house arrest. The man you’ve known to date as your father was your paternal uncle-in-law. I suppose that’s right… For he’s the husband of our Sovereign’s younger sister…He took pity on you, and securing permission from the King, on condition that you’ll still be kept in similar form of confinement, formally adapted you. In this way he’d hoped to shield you from future ramifications, as well as provide you with a personal name and acceptable surname. In time however, even this became too much for the wrathful king to bear. I don’t believe it was a hunting accident that caused the early demise of your foster father…But again, my suspicions have never been proven …so I must keep my tongue.”

Then, after a thoughtful silence, the old nurse muttered, reflecting on how, with the advancing of the years the king had only become worse, on how he had only nursed his anger and hatred, and how, in punishing Teuquob in this manner, he was still seeking revenge (vengeance) on his long-dead wife, Princess Lueling.

Just then a sharp knock on the door startled them both.  The concerned Chief attendant (head chambermaid) was at once abruptly dismissed by an incensed Shutizan.  But then, on second thought, Shutizan called her back and ordered her, even though it was beneath her station, to fetch them the no:5 herb tea.  The old nurse’s throat was parched and Teuquob looked too pale.  When the tray was produced Shutizan sternly gave the order to her rival, “The young mistress needs her rest.  See to it that no one disturbs us.”

“Yes ma’am.” She begrudgingly assented; but as she was leaving, she snuck another look at Teuquob.  Observing the girl’s condition, she halted her step, contemplating suggesting that perhaps a physician be fetched to examine Teuquob.

“What are you waiting for?” Shutizan’s curt, angry voice however deterred the other; for an open confrontation with latter when she was in such a foul mood would not be advisable.

“Sorry, ma’am,” she meekly ejected and quickly left the room.  Shutizan was an old shrew that no one dared cross or disobey.

This special brand of herb tea was appropriate for times like this, for it soothed the nerves and rushed blood to their cheeks.  Placing the empty cup down the nurse now spoke with and even tone, “Dear child, I have told you all this, painful as it was, to make you understand.  Now you must set aside all propriety, I mean your filial piety towards this one who do not deserve it.  Since the King has long ago forsaken you and spared you not one ounce of parental affection or care, you do not owe him any homage, least of all obedience.  You owe it to your mother and yourself, however, to survive and not perish in this vile net of fate he has cast to ensnare you.

“Your mother’s life was tragically spent before its time, but this need not be your destiny.  You must disobey the King and get away to safety without fail.  Only then, once you are safe in another state, may you offer the prayers and proper sacrifices to her soul.  Only then may she find peace in the afterlife.  Her spirit must be released from its internment in this world and be able to find entry to the heavens above.  Her long-tormented soul must be spared from further anguish.  Only you, my child, the last surviving member of your mother’s family, can offer this solace to her.  Since the Gods are merciful, they will hear the prayers you offer, as long as it’s done through a proper religious order, regardless of creed or sect.

“Take counsel, Teuquob.  I have thought long and hard on this and have finally devised a plausible course of action whereby we may be able to free you from this entrapment.  Listen with care, therefore, to my instructions.  Tonight, we will pretend to have retired early, only...”

“You don’t look well, my dear, perhaps we should go back.”

“Go back?  No!  I can’t!”  Trembling, her throat constricting, Teuquob protested.  Then, realizing where she was, she smiled bashfully, steadied her heart and apologized.

“I quite understand.  There’s no need for explanations.” Stark with a compassionate response, withdrew his hand.  “Still, perhaps you would like to rest here a bit before our return.  We needn’t proceed to the next point.”

                                                                                       ~

 (Stay tuned for the next exciting post, the conclusion of “The Rescue”, Section 9)