Slave War. Juriy Tashkinov
on the sorcerer’s hands. Runes of power. Lightning runes. Magic amplifiers. Only Dorkhand could not decipher the signs on the iron ring.
Latrich worked tirelessly. He sat in the library, making extracts from the book that Dorkhand studied at night. And then he conducted experiments on slaves. Tonight, after an unsuccessful test, slaves carried Durich to throw him from the castle window. Freemen were buried in the Valley of Stones, outside the city, but why would a slave need such honors? Bon died yesterday. The day before yesterday… Why, people were dying every day, and Dorkhand knew that one day his turn would come to take part in the incomprehensible experiment of a bald sorcerer with a scar.
Dorhand glanced at Durich’s finger. Latrich put a ring inscribed with runes on the slave. Dorhand is too smart for his age. And he often practiced the language of runes.
“Looks like Latrich is trying to find a recipe for longevity, or even immortality! He wants to write runes on the ring with his tongue so he can live forever! How many more must die for one to continue to live until he has lived all the lives of the people he killed?”
To say that the slaves were fed disgustingly is the same as remaining silent. Pigs – and besides rotten porridge, sometimes they were given boiled fruits taken from compotes. Sometimes, of course, they spoiled him with beans, but Dorkhand never stopped dreaming about meat. When no one was looking, Tom would sometimes throw in a handful of strawberries or cherries. On Sundays they gave us wine or beer, a whole barrel for the barracks. But Dorhand refused. His father’s words stuck in his head forever.
– Wine is the drink of slaves and the poor. Having drunk themselves into unconsciousness, they forget about chains and problems, and are ready to work again and again, just to drink another glass of poison. But for a prince, being drunk is an unforgivable luxury.
Dorhand wanted to remember. Memory is the only thing left for him.
One day Latrich went hunting, and Dorhand realized that a better opportunity might not present itself. He sneaked into the kitchen. I put dried lamb, a couple of breads and dried fruits in a bag.
***
He touched Lina’s shoulder.
– Come with me?
– Where are you going?
– Get out of here. We need to decide soon. There may not be another chance.
– But this is dangerous! – Lina exclaimed.
– Speak a little quieter. I don’t think it can get any worse. They may kill us – but is the life of a slave better than death?
– I want to get out of here too! Hateful place! – said Tam, one of the slaves.
– And I!
– And me too!
There were about ten fugitives in total.
“I thought about leaving on my own, it’s not so noticeable,” Dorkhand said.
There was a dissatisfied murmur from the comrades.
“But I have one idea for this case,” said Dorhand, after thinking for a moment. – I have some dream grass. Let’s add it to Tom’s food. And when he falls asleep, we’ll go quietly.
That’s what they did. Having waited until the Big Man had closed his eyelids and was snoring loudly, the friends tiptoed along the corridor, avoiding the guards who were scurrying back and forth.
Something grabbed Dorkhand by the leg, and he almost screamed in surprise. Something cold and unpleasant. A lump of fear rose in my throat. The boy stood up as if in a daze.
– Where are you going, scoundrels? – a creaky voice rang out. He looked back. And he saw that all his comrades were shrouded in black smoke, which took on the shape of people.
“But Latrich does not have true magic! He can’t stop us from a distance! So this is just some kind of trick, cunning.”
– Dorhand, I hate spiders! – Lina almost burst into tears. The shadows on her leg turned into spiders. And Dorkhand’s limbs were shrouded in snakes. He tried not to pay attention to the vision. I looked for something that could help me get out of the trap.
– Dorhand. I told you that this is dangerous, that it’s not worth it… – Lina burst into tears without finishing her sentence.
– They are not real! – Dorkhand found it hard to believe the words he said. The snakes realistically touched the skin, wriggled and hissed. For a moment Dorkhand thought that the words flashed through the hiss:
“I will kill you the same way I killed your stupid father!”
Dorhand clenched his fist, but managed to pull himself together. He raised his leg and saw under it on one of the stone slabs a rune with the image of a snake.
– Do not step on such slabs! – Dorhand said. – These runes cause visions!
As soon as you removed your foot from the image, the ghosts and snakes melted into thin air.
They walked calmly to the end of the corridor. They hit the two guards who were standing at the entrance on the head. Tam blocked the way for one of the remaining men when he tried to raise the alarm by ringing the bell. He shook his head and threw a knife at the guard. The weapon slammed into his throat, and he sank to the floor, making gurgling sounds.
– Return to the stall, pathetic slaves! – the guard who remained on his feet snorted with contempt. It seems that he is too stupid to appreciate the superiority of forces. Or he considered slaves worse than himself. Tam hit him in the face, and he staggered and fell to the floor. After a few minutes, no one was blocking the path to the gate.
Freedom greeted them with welcoming coolness. A light torrential rain was falling.
– This is good! The dogs that are put on our trail will not find us right away,” Tam said.
It smelled like it always did after rain. The wind pleasantly ruffled the hem of his shirt. In the distance a wolf howled and an owl snorted.
– Freedom! – said Dorkhand.
– Do you have a plan? Where to go? – Tam asked.
– What a plan! Tam, I only lived eleven springs! There are grown men among us.
– But everyone followed you, not me. You brought us out, brave boy.
“We need to get as far away from the castle as possible so that they don’t find us right away.” We are without chains, but by the brand they can immediately guess who we are. I think we should try to get to the capital. I am, after all, a king!
“I don’t want to upset you, Dorkhand, but, most likely, someone else managed to take the throne in your absence.” Without an army, you are unlikely to receive the crown. And with the brand you will be given to another owner. Or they will return Latricha.
– But I’m the king! – Dorhand looked at Tam hopefully, but he remained impartial. – Do you have better ideas than mine?
– Let’s head southeast. They say that the largest rebel army since the last Slave War has gathered there. They are all runaway slaves, just like us. Their leader plans a great march on Lorraine to wipe out the Market, the center of the slave trade.
“I am the heir to the throne,” Dorkhand reminded, “and not a simple runaway slave.”
– No. As long as you are yourself, you will lead the chains.
Dorhand easily determined the cardinal directions by the moss-covered part of the oak tree. We decided to head southeast, as Tam advised. Dorhand felt that the further they moved away from the castle, the less the brand hurt.
“Let’s run a little more, and the sorcerer’s power over me will dry up completely.”
***
Latrich