Zawmb’yee Nuje Continues The Blog, Chap 10, 123

Zawmb’yee Nuje Loses Control of the Blog


     Oh Kievifkwa, I don’t know if I’m unraveling in madness, or doing what is necessary. Our secrets must be protected at all costs, and there is a higher calling of patriotism for our culture, for our people. No, no, no. This can not be — I feel it. To betray my only love is infinitely more evil than to betray the State. Those grand plans of State are Machiavellian and I have fallen, have let them offer slow poisons to me like a Juliet, but worse, I have betrayed Doug, and it might be too late. You would have thought I would have delayed speaking to Gavicte Yenkoi, but I had ordered the Kutibea to ask him to come in to hear my treachery.
     Silly me, a child in borrowed robes, I had said to send in Gavicte Yenkoi. Foolish me. Treacherous me.
     “Yes, Fevepo Zawmb’yee, you wished to see me?” Yenkoi had said.
     “Gavicte Yenkoi, please prepare for me to sign, a death warrant for um…”
     “Yes, Fevepo Zawmb’yee?”
     So many sobs escaped from me and I sat down at a table near the reference section in the kngacev. So many tears dripped on my notes that the ink blurred on the paper buckled with evil dimples. Yenkoi stood in front of the books that were laid out like tombstones. But he merely lifted an eyebrow.
     Yenkoi began again, “Fevepo Zawmb’yee, your Majesty, High Priestess, how may I serve you?”
     “Gavicte Yenkoi, please prepare for me to sign, a death warrant for Doug…” and a full-throated cry broke out that echoed across the walls that mocked me.
     “Is it…”
     “You know who,” I screamed.
     “Fevepo Zawmb’yee, if I may, I will look up his full formal name and prepare the formal documents with orders to the security forces as needed for you to approve. Is this acceptable?”
     I got up from the table and turned my back on Yenkoi. I pulled books from the shelves and flung them across the room. I said, “Is this civilization? Does knowledge become weapon become death, become ignorance from compassion, rip out hearts, beat us down without a rhythm of love for filthy secrets, dirt. I am a filthy wretch…” I picked up a heavy book and tore out a page. “For this secret a life? For this I am powerful? This Fevepo, this Queen, who plays in mud, embraces this dirt, this warrant…” And I dripped on the table again.
     “My condolences, Fevepo Zawmb’yee. If I may inquire, respectfully, Fevepo Zawmb’yee, do you wish to proceed?”
     “Yes, Gavicte Yenkoi.”
     “May I …”
     “Just go. Go now. Go quickly. Jevkwyi!
     “Yes, Fevepo Zawmb’yee, as you wish, as you order.” He turned officiously and left.
     Thus the world will be rendered cold. It is in this Ice Age that with my unearthly weapons, I will rule. For those loyal, I will provide food, provide warmth. And yet, though ruler of hell, I am so cold, so bereft and lonely among both the nobles and the hordes, above and beneath them.
     So let it be that I’d be seized by…~ post terminated ~
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Chapter 01 The Bloggy Diary of a Caveman

Chapter 02 Trapping Oral History

Chapter 03 Moving Days

Chapter 04 Moving Out

Chapter 05 Looking For Zusoiti

Chapter 06 Zawmb’yee Does the Blog

Chapter 07 Ziohat’s Blog

Chapter 08 Zawmb’yee Continues

Zawmb’yee Chapter 09

Zawmb’yee Chapter 10


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