LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC- THE ORDEAL - SECTION 4

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC  

THE ORDEAL - SECTION 4

 

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

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

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

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

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

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  My parents sometime prior have already withdrawn to their country retreat on the assumption that I was to follow them later, at the conclusion of my annual studies and special military training.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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are we going far?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                                                               ~                                                                             

 

(END OF SECTION 4)

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE FISHERMAN'S PRIZE- (2)

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC

FISHERMAN’S PRIZE

 

SECTION 2

 As luck would have it, for the rest of the day no major storms or other such adverse weather conditions had hindered his progress.  The incessant winds changing course by mid-morning had fortunately herded (blew) the flotilla of clouds away, leading them instead towards northeasterly direction of the open sea. By noon Kaimu’s persistence and gambling had truly paid off. The open skies and sea bathed in beautiful sun’s golden rays, in the end had heralded a most glorious sunset.

Kaimu ceased his labors just as the dusk (twilight) was encroaching on Earth and returned home with his good bounty of fish. In his elated mood he first however took added care to wash up by the shed and wiped clean his mud-caked soles of his footwear, before entering the sturdy cabin that had withstood many adverse weather conditions.

 Ensa greeted him joyfully, with a beaming face, for thankfully he’d returned all in one piece!  Kaimu, resembling a conquering hero, was affectionately ushered into his favorite chair.

“How is she?” Kaimu asked impatiently, looking askew at the direction of the sleeping stranger, as he’d same time grabbed hold on to his wife’s arm and tugged at her sleeve.

“She’s as well as can be expected. Considering what the poor thing’s been through!” His wife answered, nodding. “She’s asleep now, so mind your voice!” She admonishingly placed the right forefinger over her pursed lips. Coyly tugged back to free her left sleeve then going to the stove, she fetched him a bowl. “Here, eat these while I prepare you some fish.”  She mocked impatience, putting a bowl of steaming porridge in front of him.

He Knew this was the last ration (speck) of food, that they had and that she in her unselfishness had reserved it for him, naturally giving some of it to the girl while going hungry herself all day long.

“No. No.” Touched by her generosity, he grasped her sleeve and looking into her eyes, earnestly insisted: “You should have some as well; you also need to preserve your strength.  I’m not really all that hungry; besides, I do not want to spoil my appetite and would rather wait for the fish.”

“Do I look famished to you?  No. You go ahead.” With a gentle tug releasing her arm, she lied. “Earlier I cooked me some eatable roots that I’d collected, rather dug up, from that small clearing, you know, that safe patch at the edge of the creek.” Indicating the sleeping girl with her chin she then added, “I went there in search of some additional herbs that she might require for her swift recovery. More precisely, I needed a Yufor plant to treat her more serious injuries. You’d used up the last batch. While I was there, I chanced on this bonus of edible roots. You think I would have had this much energy if I’d gone hungry until now?” 

But seeing that he needed more convincing, she spun a lengthier yarn: “I would have saved you a good portion of the nourishing root, for it has so many added benefits, far too numerous to recount.”

“I know, I know.” Kaimu waved a dismissive hand. “I’ve heard it all before. It will cure all ailments under the Sky… After all, it’s Heaven’s miracle food.”

“As it were, I know how much you detest the taste.” Ensa overlooked the sarcastic interruption. “Last time finding it unpalatable, you nearly retched all over my newly scrubbed floor. Imagine, a tough man like you, being so finicky about food! Tisk…Tisk.” She teased him mildly getting him back, as she again rushed off.

Kaimu was in truth, famished. So, after a moment’s hesitation he just shrugged it off and dug in ravenously. Within minutes he had polished the bottom of the wooden bowl.

“Need any help with the fish?” He then raised his head and stretching his bones called out sheepishly in a loud whisper. He grinned, as at the same time his eyes tracked her busy movements.  Such a good, capable wife she was. He was truly blessed! Yes, it was the blessings from Heaven, on that stormy night the way his late father’s path had crossed with a stranded scribe (scholar) burdened no less, with a scrawny frightened, sick child. Despite his father’s valiant efforts (in aiding, treating the wounds,) the scribe had died of his grave injuries soon after in a shroud of mystery and unanswered questions. That little girl, however, had beaten the odds and later blossomed into a beautiful young girl to in due course become his wife.

YOUNG ENSA

Kaimu was startled from his revere when the spiraling aroma of cooked fish filled the room. He sniffed the air and licked his lips in happy anticipation. He did not know how she did it, but she always managed to transform even the most mundane fare (provisions) into such veritable gourmet treats!

The wooden plates heaped up with sizzling delicacies (as she used local herbs previously gathered) were soon placed in front of him on the table. But Kaimu refusing to touch a morsel insisted they both sit down together and simultaneously partake (of) in this welcome feast.

When he had fully satiated his hunger only then, he spared added thought to the girl’s future predicament. Hmmm! But that discussion (entailing some details) will have to wait. Throwing a sideways glance at his wife, he mused. As it were, his good wife had waited patiently for him to tell of his day’s adventures. He, he! He devilishly grimaced. Suspense must be killing her!

His belly bursting with food, the old fisherman with a broad, mischievous grin on his lips sat back contentedly and rubbed it for relief.  Belching and burping he then with some elaboration, taking certain artistic license, told his captive audience the thrilling (sequence of) events of the day.  Well into the night, in an unusually good mood Kaimu simply rattled on, reveling in his latest triumph, meanwhile trying his wife’s patience.

As it became her turn then, “Suffice it to say, you are a good healer Ensa!” He responded with pleasure to the promising report on the girl’s prognosis.

 “I’ve always said we are complimentary, twice as strong we are, as a pair.  As always, I’m glad to see my efforts had not been in vain.”

 Hah…he. He then repeatedly chuckled to himself, grinning from ear to ear lost in some mischievous thought. His wife meanwhile had busied herself with clearing away of the empty dishes from the table.

Halting her beehive of activity at one point and turning, “What are you concocting in that diabolical brain of yours, Kaimu?” she asked. “Silly man, I should think you’d be exhausted after such an adventurous, grueling day. As you have nothing further to do, why not go to bed.” In jest, she mockingly scolded him.

But he’d not heard a word of it. “I was just thinking, what luck, a sure gift!” His head reeling with excitement, he suddenly burst forth (rejoiced) in a chortle, with his body pumped up now with sheer delight like a bloated puffer fish. “I tell you; we are truly blessed! Here we are worried sick that we could never be able to amass (accrued, accumulated) enough cash, even for a measly dowry, to enable our son to marry.” Then growing serious, (in a grave tone) he stressed. “You must admit that over and above the living expenses, we had no means to afford even a cheapest bride; therefore, faced a bleak prospect of being deprived of our God-given right to grandchildren in our old age.  Ha-ha! Then the blessed sea sends us this good catch!”  Grinning broadly now from ear to ear, in his exalted state he jovially slammed his palm (hand) on the table with such force that it rattled the mug of hot tea, as it was filled to the brim, that she’d moments before had brought it over for him to drink.

“Ha-ha! Who would have guessed…? What luck!  It’s a sure gift from the sea!”

His wife, in fear of more spillages had at once rushed over and grasped (clutched) the mug’s large handle in order to steady it.  Subsequently mopping up the spillage, “Have you gone mad? Shush!” She taxed (admonished) him meekly. Deferring (postponing) his ready response, in silence they both listened intently for a few minutes with both heads cocked in (turned towards) the direction of the girl. Fortunately, the girl did not even stir; she remained fast asleep, dead to the world. 

“Kaimu,” she then turning to face him, reasoned in soft, though somewhat serious tone, “aren't you being too presumptuous?  How can you talk as if you owned her?  She might belong to someone …Might have a spouse (husband) already. In any event, she certainly has a family… A family that might come looking for her!  She is not some fish that you can lay claim to as easily as that!”

That did it! 

Her words in one stroke had blown away his entire prior good, fluffy mood and replaced it with dark equanimity and anger.

“What family?”  Kaimu snapped.   “Can you deny that she was cast off at sea? Shipwrecked, as the result of that fierce storm that had passed!  If she has, had any family, they too would have perished in that storm.”

“Even if it were so...still, I cannot help wondering.” Ensa insisted on braving his wrath.  A brief silence ensued as she then hesitated to sort out her concerns.  Meanwhile Kaimu sullenly sat, pondering, seething in anger. 

“Besides,” she then hurriedly added, “have you not noticed that something is very odd about her?”

What are you talking about now?” He jeered, shaking his head.  “Stirring up trouble where there is none, that's what!”  Angrily he slammed his fist on the table. His tone had risen despite his forced restraint. He inhaled deeply, let it out, then spoke poignantly (keenly) with intermitting bouts of pleading tone. “For once, can we not take what’s been freely given to us without question? Aren’t you tired of our hard lot?  In case you haven’t (been made aware) wised up to the fact, let me spell it out for you: We are getting on in years! A scant number of good years are left ahead. Now you may be willing to endure endless crap (discomfort), but my patience is at an end. I want what is my due and, also a far better turn for us both from here on!”

His wife maintaining her sweet disposition had lowered her head. She understood the source of his anxiety. Using softer tone and more amiable words she now affected her submissive role while endeavoring to placate her husband's mood. 

“You mustn’t complain dear. Hasn’t Heaven always been good to us?  All this time we lacked for nothing, why, because we’ve never strayed from the righteous course (path) however desperate we’d been! We’re strong in spirit and body, all thanks to the Gods.”

“It’s all a bunch of malarkeys!” He burst. “No, I’m fed up, I tell you… I’m tired of always making do… There will be some changes from now on. I’ve listened to you long enough.  In future, I mean to do whatever is necessary to…!” Kaimu grunted defiantly, and then relenting, chewed on the reminder of his words.

“Dear husband,” Once more she gently interrupted him wanting to get her point across, before he unleashed his usual tirade.  He was a stubborn fellow, but he had a good, honest heart. As for her, she had a strong, unyielding spirit and willpower that refused to sacrifice her innate ethics, refused to give in to prevalent bad elements that surrounded them (was all around them).

Considered one of the worst postings in the country, the exiled venal government officials, for the last decade and a half had found this troublesome Province a serious liability for the scant returns. To meet the taxing demands of the Capital, therefore, the newly appointed Provincial governor had underhandedly permitted and even encouraged all sorts of illicit activities. This held particularly true in all the major townships, where the exact prize for the local inhabitants had been to have no real, legitimate local government or enforcement law officers of any kind for justice and order. Meanwhile the region being a powerful magnet for dissidents, rather, rejects of civilized society: the mushrooming, underground organizations- secretly sanctioned by the government- had in due course (flourished) thrived through unbridled extortion. There were dealings in illegal drugs, prostitution, trafficking contraband goods, kidnappings and more often than that, cold-blooded maiming, mutilations and murders. Naturally in this dangerous environment, the stranded, muzzled, honest citizens lived by the skin of their teeth. The unscrupulous, puppet government after all, had had a major stake in all the illicit gains. As it were, resultant gruesome episode of the last decade, the authorized contentious power now rested in the hands of two rival gangs that to date had ruthlessly controlled (dominated) the allocated, segments -the so called, parcels of land and people.

The same held true even for this remote, desolate stretch where Kaimu and Ensa lived. The other inhabitants, the so-called fishermen, fared better, only because they’d succumbed to temptation. Accordingly, engaged in the endless trafficking of contraband goods and other vile, illicit acts (goings on) swelled their bellies (abdomen) and purses but, as Ensa had so often pointed out, stained their reputation, and more importantly, their eternal soul. The repercussion of gruesome premature end unfortunately was not a good enough deterrent, as the material benefits far outweighed the perils.

Unrelentingly, she again pushed once more to get her point across. 

Kaimu was perhaps uncouth, at times even sacrilegious, but he loved her. And in the end always came around to doing the right, honorable thing. Married when she was barely thirteen and he well into his twenties, despite the age difference and bumpy start, to date they had had a blissful cohabitation. Nor had he ever given her a serious cause for any regret! 

But this time- and this she was to learn later- she’d seriously underestimated his desperation.

“No, no.” she insisted, changing the subject.  “I'm talking about her clothes.”

“Ha? What about them?” he asked agitated.

“Why, they are man's clothes.”

“So, what!” he grumbled, leaning back. “I could see that for myself wife, I’m not blind!”

“Very well then dear Husband,” she poignantly reasserted, “You must then also acknowledge that no matter which part of the country one comes from, which background, whether rich or poor, the standard, the quality of clothing is markedly different for each.  Now while her outer garments, without a doubt, are that of a mercantile class, her embroidered undergarments are of such fine quality of silk and lace- that it’s befitting nothing short of a lady of highest rank and substance! I venture to guess, could even be that of nobility! I’ve hung them all up to dry in our son’s old room, go see for yourself, if you doubt me!”

“I’m no pervert. When have I ever looked or handled woman’s undergarments that I should do so now? Imagine all this fuss you’re raising over mere clothes! I may be an uncouth fellow, certainly not as learned as you but I too have some worldly (sophisticated) experience, there was no cause for your high-handed speech. Now be straight with me… What are you really trying to say, what’s the actual point woman?” he scoffed with a jeer.  But without waiting for her to answer he then added, “Besides, why should that make any difference?”

“Husband, ignorant as I am,” she began humbly, after being so chastised, “I think it's safe to (say) speculate that she was under disguise at the time of catastrophe at sea, for a definite reason!  It may even be that...”

“Bah!” Kaimu interrupted sharply.  And now having lost all patience, with a retort he dismissed her words.  “What difference does it make whether she was wearing men's clothes or not, whether she has a wealthy family or not?  Nobility! Bah! Next thing I know, you’ll be claiming that she’s a Princess!  Women, why are you trying to provoke me?  Stop trying to spoil my happiness, or I swear you'll see the back of my hand!” 

This threat could be prelude to a beating. A thing he’d sworn never to do since that last time, a long, long time ago, when as newlyweds they had both been headstrong and young. His face now flushed with anger; he reaffirmed this threat with a slam of his fist on the table.

“You are such a sour old woman, always trying my patience, confusing my head, always dampening my spirits with your web of tales, with your uncontrolled imagination running amok and your daunting pious beliefs!  Don’t get me started now!” 

He shook his head as he gritted his teeth. He took a deep breath, then after a brief repose, before she could respond, he begun again. “Tell me, where did all this careful, virtuous living or all that morality get us? Why aren’t you discontented with the scant reserves and our meager livelihood? Always living on the edge, we are no better than scavenging rats! We’re the worst of the lot. Why? Because of your insistence of being upright and proper! When I had that accident, we’d suffered greatly because we exist on the margin. What’s wrong with wanting a bit more out of life now and then, if only to soften the next blow, to cushion the next (subsequent) inevitable adversity…Or catastrophe! I cannot always be strong for you; I’m getting on in years. When I become too old and feeble, what will become of us then? We’ll fall prey and be consumed as easily as flies being swatted!”

She always had her fate to keep her strong. But Kaimu being more a pragmatist, the growing concerns robbed him of any solace. In his restless state Ensa feared he would seek unwarranted trouble. Especially since Kaimu’s raised concerns could not be disputed or dismissed.

Reduced to silence, her head riddled with worrisome thoughts, Ensa left to fetch the pot (on the burner) to anew refill his mug. Knowing that any attempt to dissuade him from his aim now would be in vain: she’d sought this opportunity to get away to provide him with time to calm down.

The fear of vulnerability that his accident had evoked; being so incapacitated, it had changed him somewhat!

But as if deranged, he’d continued (to explode) with his long-winded tirades (diatribes), perhaps, in part trying to convince himself to override any intrusive moral reason.  “I found her and as a rule of the sea she belongs to me.  Me, you understand!  Not you!  Me! Besides, if I had not saved her life, she would have been fishmeal by now; so what are you gibbering this nonsense about, foolish woman!” 

His anger and fury now unleashed he continued to cuss (swear/curse) under his breath.  Why does she persist in taking contrary (opposing) viewpoint and spoil everything?  Obstinate woman! How can she be so blinded to their despondency? He’d realized his worst fear when he’d been incapacitated, admittedly, for the first time in a long memory. But the so-called “alarm-bell” had resounded so loudly in his head and chest that to date he quaked in fear for her wellbeing, her welfare!

She would not survive a day without him!

His hand violently shoved aside the mug that she’d just refilled to the brim. The careless, angry act however had its consequence. The mug’s hot contents had spilled all over the table, not sparing his hand. Scolded, the pain gave him added reason to bellow. His head exploding now with all that fury, his face flushed bead red and his fists, despite the stinging pain, clenched. Frowning, (with knit eyebrows) he burrowed his fierce, piercing gaze (eyes) on her back as she’d rushed off to fetch him some soothing ointment. He started to say something ugly, but then on second thought he relented. Staying (holding) his tongue, he sprang from his seat and darted outside without so much as a word.

In the cool, crisp air, unrestrained, he unleashed his anger on any hindrance. He kicked around indiscriminately and fumed, swearing, cursing, and grumbling animatedly under his breath, until his rage was spent. 

Though very much concerned, she knew better than to go after him, and so had let him be.

After a period of absence (spell) he returned, seemingly pacified, closing the door behind him.

With cool heads prevailing, he was now ready to resume sensible discussion, or failing that, with his ready rebuttal. Seated at the table once more, he with disdain pushed away the soothing paste she’d kept ready in hand, “There’s no need.”

 “Bring me that wine.” After the momentary stalemate stare, he grumbled, still bearing a grudge. “Not that one!” he stormed anew, when she’d rushed him the small jar of homemade wine. “I want the one we've been saving for!” Then he added adamantly, leaving no room for a discussion.  “Tonight, I mean to celebrate!”

She did not dare raise any more objections or in any way contradict him this time, not when he was still in such a foul mood, so in obedience (complying,) she quickly went off to fetch the wine that she had hidden in a secret place at the back shed.  She had concealed this jug of wine there for quite some time now in happy anticipation of their son's safe return.

As she dusted the cobwebs and dirt of the jug she vented her anger in a mumble, deeming that her husband had finally lost all sense and that he had gone stark, raving mad. “Acting like a senseless youth, imagine claiming ownership to a person as if he is some lord or God!”

When she returned to the cabin with the sealed jug of wine, she found Kaimu better disposed, having once again been transformed into his earlier gentler self. In her absence, Kaimu had inwardly redressed the innate problems, in the end choosing not to dwell on the negative aspects or the possible repercussions for keeping the girl.  Instead, he chose to concentrate on the future happiness and on the expected prosperity (prosperous returns) the bounty would bring”.

Smiling, Kaimu now watched his frowning wife place the jug and a single cup on the table. He reached out but instead of the jug, affectionately grabbed hold of her hand and looking into her eyes said in a gentle, placating tone, “Wife, let us not argue.  This is a very lucky day for us.  We should be happy. We should be rejoicing, yes, be celebrating the good catch and of my being restored to good health. My love, do bring over another cup and join me.”

Somewhat pacified, she went to fetch herself a cup.  When she returned, she warned, “But only one turn, you know I cannot tolerate spirit of this strength.”

Feeling more masculine, “Sure, sure. You’ll get only the pious drops.” he chuckled jesting, then proceeded to fill both cups to the brim.

“You shouldn’t make fun of my faith (belief).” She feigned admonition as she reached for hers. They both laughed, feeling lighter in their heart.

This storm inside had been averted as well.   In his conciliatory mood, he now grinned from ear to ear.

Besides, the less she drank, the more there’d be left for him to consume.

She had outwardly given in; inwardly however, as she slowly sipped the unsavory drink, she still could not help pondering on the concern that his celebration was bit too premature:  Undoubtedly the girl belonged to some powerful family. Why, everything about her spoke volumes in gentility. Furthermore, someone had gone to a lot of trouble, when faced with certain peril, to secure (fasten) her on a solid piece of expensive furniture or cabin door. This she’d deduced from Kaimu’s description of the wood. That singular, courageous act had definitely saved her life. In this small community, with so many unlawful opportunists running amok, her presence would be noted, and being seen as a valuable commodity, sooner or later someone would come to lay claim to her.  In the wake of that, Heaven only knew what other unforeseen repercussions may follow. 

But despite (all her misgivings and) the sense of foreboding, Ensa in the end, as she’d so often done, conceded to the fact that they could do nothing or little else to alter the inevitable outcome of things, being but mere pawns at (in) capricious fate’s hands.

Oh well, tomorrow was another day. Perhaps Gods will be merciful! She’d therefore with a shrug, went about her chores quietly and got the bedding ready. Then before her husband got too intoxicated, she asked his help in transferring the sleeping girl to their son’s room that had been temporarily (previously used for) converted into storage space. There, things already put away, in a cleared space she’d already prepared more comfortable, suitable bedding for their guest.

“Also, in that room the girl would be less disturbed.” She’d reasoned, providing Kaimu with an opportunity of break.

He’d obligingly responded, then unfortunately, forgoing sleep, returned to resume his drinking. In the small hours of the night, as he drained one cup after another, he was placed still at a more jovial mood.  His bouts of laughter resounded like a loud bell in that small hut and his excited chatter was enough to wake the sleeping mouse of the habitant.

“What fortuity, what a delicious, good luck!  Not one, but two good catches in one day!” he chuckled, in a self-congratulatory mood.  “I am a fortunate man this very night.  With such a prize, things are bound to look up for us from now on.”

 Ensa could barely keep her eyes open, coming over she reached down to urge him to go to bed, when he suddenly grabbed her hand. Insistently hanging on, he eventually persuaded her to sit by his side, to keep him company. “It’s no fun drinking all by my lonesome. Here love; won’t you share another cupful with me to celebrate?” He winked with a devilish grin on his lips.

Not waiting for her response, he then quickly filled another cup and reaching forth, pressed the rim to her lips in a forceful persuasion.

Seeing that he was tipsy and not wishing to antagonize him, she complied.

He was not going to see sense this night.  She might as well try to be amicable. She therefore took another forced sip against her better judgment; but jerked her head back almost immediately, short of more intakes.

“Go on, drink it,” he persisted generously, again pressing the rim to her lips to force her to more intakes (consumption).

“I’d rather not, dear husband’” she protested in an adamant voice. “You know I get sick if I drink too much.  But you go on ahead, as you seem to be having no ill effects.” 

When the other showed his displeasure with an obvious frown, she hurried to coax him, “Besides, what do I know about the taste.  It’s all the same to me. You would only be throwing it away.  A sure connoisseur you, drink it all, or better still, save some of it for yet another day.”  After all, past experiences had taught Ensa how best to handle her husband.

“Quite right, very well,” he acquiesced, smiling sheepishly.  With that, he downed both cups in two quick consecutive gulps, emptying them in repetition all at once into his grateful belly.  Afterwards, he smacked his lips with pleasure and winked at his wife, “Come closer you ravishing beauty, come sit on my lap.”

She simply shook her head, and ceasing the chance, rushed off, half turning only to say coyly, “You forget, we have company.”

“After all these years, you’re still playing hard to get. Do I have to come get you?”

But as he’d been unaccustomed to strong spirits, even though the contents of the jar had been only half consumed, when he tried to stand up, feeling light-headed and vertiginous (woozy), he slumped right back into chair.

“Woo- look at all the stars!  Hey, the room is spinning! Are we caught in a typhoon?”

Before she ejected a response however, (his head reeling,) feeling giddy he simply passed out, with his head and torso collapsing on the table. 

 

With some difficulty his wife finally got him to bed and tugged him under the warm quilt. Snug as a bunny, he snored loudly till daybreak, in most part keeping her awake. 

 

 

Rising at dawn the following morning with a terrible hangover- however maintaining his uplifted and happier spirits of the night before- he still managed to leave for the sea, as the conditions of weather continued to be favorable.

 

(End of section 2)

(Be sure to check back for the next post of Fisherman's Prize, Section 3)