Slave War. Juriy Tashkinov
And you?
– Volume. Big Man Vol. Come on, Dorhand, eat an apple. It’s a long time before dinner.
The sour apple juice flowed pleasantly across the tongue. Dorhand only now remembered that he had not eaten for two days.
– Thank you.
– Only you… no nonsense. You won’t be able to escape from the barracks.
***
It stank not only of sweat, but also of sewage. The owner of the inn did not do any landscaping, so the slaves had to relieve themselves in the middle of the barracks. Dorhand sat down on the bare wooden floor, where it was not so dirty. This looks like his home for the next few days. Maybe years. “The main thing is not forever!” – thought the boy. Dorhand lowered his head to his knees. The body itched and hurt. From beatings and burns left by the inhospitable sun on the skin of a northerner. The face of his father appeared in his thoughts. He is now dead. Is your brother alive?
The boy was distracted from his thoughts by crying. Not far from him he saw a girl. The same one that was bought with him.
– My name is Dorkhand. And you?
– Lina.
– Why are you crying? – Dorkhand only now noticed a trickle of blood flowing down Lina’s leg. – Were you wounded?
– Don’t think. The lord touched me. Do you know what I mean? Touched there!
Dorhand nodded, although he did not fully understand what the girl was talking about. He read about something like this in an adult book, but he never fully understood what it was.
– Do not Cry. Everything will be fine. Touched, but remained alive.
– You do not understand anything! He’s a real monster! I come from a rich family. I’m not used to being treated like this. I had a nanny. She taught me etiquette. Do you know what this is?
– I read about it. The traveler Khorel wrote about something like this. In his book about Beelzuvik.
– I’ve been to the Capital. Not once. And then… and then…
She burst into tears.
– My parents were killed. I was rich.
“And I am a prince,” Dorkhand almost said. But then I thought: “I was a prince”
– My father was killed too! – Dorkhand said, and a terrible light flashed in his eyes.
“One day I will avenge this!”
At sunset the food arrived. There is sour porridge in the bowls. They didn’t give me spoons, so Dorkhand, grimacing, stuffed it into his mouth with his fingers. I ate a crust of stale bread and washed it down with unpleasant-smelling water. But this also seemed like a royal dinner after a long famine. Tom quietly put an apple in the boy’s pocket and smiled friendly. At first Dorkhand didn’t like the big guy, but he turned out to be the kindest person. The boy broke the fruit into two parts. He handed the big one to Lina.
– Thank you! – she whispered. Others looked at the newcomers with envy. But one of the slaves looked at them, and therefore no one dared to attack Lina and Dorhand to take away the sweetness or cause harm.
Dorkhand fell asleep as soon as he rested his head on the floor. His father appeared to him in a dream.
The morning began with several blows of whips on the wooden floor. Most of the slaves left the barracks, heading to work.
– Why don’t they take us away?
“It seems that the owner has a more unenviable fate in store for you,” said the slave who yesterday protected Dorkhand from attacks on the apple. “Tam,” he extended his calloused hand.
– My name is Dorkhand. So what is the fate?
– The owner is a sorcerer. He selects slaves to conduct experiments. Many die. And those who are alive lose their own will, and sometimes even their reason.
A shiver ran down Dorhand’s spine. He read in books about sorcerers. Lately, more and more stories have been written about the King-beyond-the-Mountain, one of the new Dark Lords, who settled in the eternal ice of Sanem. The northern lands are many leagues from Sartoll, but do not think that the dashing will remain there forever.
After a while, Tom entered the barracks.
– The owner wants to see you.
Dorhand almost cried on the way to Latrich. The lord personally tore the sleeve of the boy’s shirt. Latrich lowered the iron rod into the flame. And then he left a brand on the boy’s shoulder. He screamed.
– Jump on one leg! – Latrich commanded. Dorhand felt that he had lost control of himself. An unknown force forced him to do everything the lord said, and it was impossible to refuse him. – And you said that you were a prince. A real slave.
Latrich laughed ominously, and Dorhand clenched his fist in impotent anger.
“One day I will take my revenge on you!”
Revenge is not the best advisor, but sometimes there come moments in life when there is nothing left but revenge. She becomes the only thread that does not allow her to say goodbye to the world of the living.
Chapter 3. Escape
They stayed a couple more weeks in the Desert and then headed north. Heather was more common here than anywhere else, so Dorhand guessed that they were somewhere in South Sartoll, in one of the provinces, perhaps Silerine or Hewick.
The spacious castle could not be compared with those untidy barracks where we had to live for the last month.
“But this castle is far from the fortified city of Lindell,” thought Dorhand, sighing. White marble, statues of maidens and warriors of his native city forced Dorkhand to shed a single bitter tear. Memories never give us peace. Or maybe as long as we remember, we live?
There’s something scary about this place. The feeling of unreasonable fear and anxiety did not leave here.
– I’m scared! What awaits us here? – Lina asked. Dorhand repeatedly glanced at Lina’s shoulder as she exposed him. There was no trace of a brand. So, she didn’t have the same fate! Slaves with this mark often walked bare-chested. The sign on their shoulder glowed with blue flashes, like lightning on a stormy night. And the eyes are empty. Dorkhand often lost control of himself. At such moments, he heard the commanding voice of the sorcerer in his head, and could not resist his will.
From the very first days, Dorkhand was haunted by the dream of escape. But there seemed to be no way to salvation. The castle is an impregnable fortress, there were always guards scurrying here and there. And of course, the voice of the magician in my head. But you can’t stay here forever! The people are waiting for him! And revenge for the death of his father. He will kill the traitor Langer. And the whole of Lorraine will turn into a lifeless desert, as it was half a century ago.
One day Dorhand discovered a library behind an unlocked oak door. Books have always been a refuge from the real world, a window into other universes. Therefore, that same night, when everyone fell asleep, the boy secretly went to the mysterious room.
“Runes,” read the book that lay on a rough oak table, not varnished.
“True magic has long been dead,” said the author of the book. – This is the magic of thoughts, words and movements. An experienced sorcerer did not need additional funds. Later they began to use objects in rituals, and eventually even runes and other signs.”
After some time, he saw the rune that was on his brand.
“Rune of Submission. The Dark Lords of the War of the Lords era put one on the shoulder of a slave, and a rune of power on a ring or other decoration. This gave them complete